


Her Name Is Alice

by allstoriesintheend



Category: Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland (1951), Alice in Wonderland (2010), Once Upon a Time (TV), Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asylum, Madness, Victorian, Wonderland
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allstoriesintheend/pseuds/allstoriesintheend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Madness is a regenerating thing. Like a phoenix, when one strand dies, another burns anew.” </p><p>∞ </p><p>Doctor Jefferson Madden is to be the new Practitioner at Bethlem Asylum,where he will treat a girl who believes Rabbits wear waistcoats and Cards paint roses red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome To Bethlem

                The carriage rattled along the cobbles as it approached its destination, making him for the seventh time that ride almost drop his book. With a heavy sigh, he closed it and placed it back into his worn satchel, alongside his journal, quills and ink. That, along with the travel bag on the floor of the carriage containing what his maid had packed for him, were the only things he was taking to the place that would become his new home for the next few months. It was as he mused on this that the driver called to tell him that they were there. He pulled the black curtain back, looking at the tall iron gates as they passed.  
  
Bethlem Asylum.

                There were already several Doctors waiting outside to greet him as he made his way from the carriage to the large doors, thankful that he had decided on a hat to keep him from the rain.  
            “Doctor Madden, I presume.” The largest of the men greeted him, ushering him inside without hesitation. “Welcome to Bethlem. I trust your journey was pleasant?”  
  
            “Yes,” Doctor Madden nodded back at the man, shivering at the chill that had followed them inside. “Although, the rain I could have done without. You must be Doctor Lydgate. Correct?”  
  
            “Yes,” the two men shook hands, and while he was introduced to the rest of the men in his presence, Doctor Madden gave the space he could see a quick glance. From the outside, it had seemed like a large Asylum, and the inside made it seem even more so. The twin staircases that led to the first floor gave him the feeling that there was more to Bethlem than there seemed from the wrought iron gates that it hid behind.  
  
            “How many patients are there here?”  
  
            “Fifty-seven,” Lydgate answered, inviting him to follow him up the staircase. “We have three Wards here at Bethlem. Section A is our men's ward, with thirty-two of our patients, Section B is our female ward with sixteen, and Section C is reserved for our worse cases, which are nine.”  
  
            “Mixed ward?”  
  
            “Unfortunately, yes. Two women and seven men. They don’t interact with the rest of our patients when we allow them free time. Our Section C patients are kept inside their cells at all times, and walked to and from treatments by our Orderlies.”  
  
            “And the post I applied for, it’s with your Section C patients?”  
  
            “I’m afraid so, Doctor. However, our Section C’s aren’t violent patients. On the contrary, they’re quite placid.”  
  
            “Then why are they kept from the others?”  
  
            “Their cases of insanity are far more severe. When we reach their ward, I’ll invite you in with one of your patients.”  
  
            Doctor Madden was escorted around the building by Doctor Lydgate, and several times during the tour he wanted the man to stop and allow him to explore the building on his own. He was shown to his quarters in the Right Wing on the third floor, where he would be staying during his time with them. The first floor was split into two, one ward for the male patients and one for the females, and their recreational room was on the ground floor. The kitchen and dining rooms were the same, though for the Doctors and Orderlies, they had a separate room to eat in. The layout was easy to follow and he was sure that if he had been allowed to find his own way around Bethlem, he would have found it in no time at all.  
  
            When they came to the second floor ward, he gave a mental count to the Orderlies that were wandering the halls. There were far more here than there were on any of the others, but he realised why. This must be Section C.  
  
            “Your office is at the other end of the ward, the closest door to the window. We have treatment rooms at either end of the Ward, each depending on which treatment you wish to use.”  
  
            “I’ll have one cleared. I’ll be performing my own kind of treatment while I’m here, thank-you.”  
  
            “Your own treatment?” That sent a murmur through the group of men as Madden nodded at them.  
  
            “I believe that every Doctor has their own treatment that they find works. My treatment, I imagine, is nothing like the kind you have used here before. I’d prefer to have a room cleared and fitted to my requirements. I’ll use my office in the meantime to treat my patients.”  
  
            “That’s highly –”  
  
            “I’m well aware of what it may be, but I’m not a Doctor that treats patients as if they’re wild animals to be tamed. You fire me now, Doctor Lydgate, or you give me until my five months are up to treat these people.”  
  
Silence followed Madden’s words as he looked at the shorter, wider man, almost as though he was daring him to challenge him again. However, Lydgate bit his tongue and gave Madden what looked to be an almost painful nod with a forced smile painted on his expression.  
  
            “Very well. We’ll have the Orderlies on this floor see to it that you get your room. Now, allow me to introduce you to your patients.”

            Madden followed Lydgate along the lit hall, glancing to and from the rooms that had been given. There were twelve, though only nine filled. He listened to their names as Lydgate reeled them off, memorising which room each was in.  
  
            “The files of all these patients are already in your office, alphabetised. Some are larger than others.” Lydgate commented, before Madden could ask about what treatments his new patients had already received. At the very end of the hall, Lydgate stopped and in turn, so did the others as well as Madden himself.  
  
            “This is our newest addition to Bethlem. She spent a short period of time on the Women’s ward, but we had to move her up here because of the disturbance she caused. Her father brought her in just three weeks ago. She’s our youngest patient.”  
  
            “How old?”  
  
            “Seventeen,” Lydgate answered, retrieving the key from the Orderly standing nearby. “Her name is Alice. Alice Liddell.”  
  
As the key turned in the lock, Madden heard the skittering of footsteps on the other side. He heard quiet hushing sounds, and as the door opened, he followed Lydgate in to see his patient.  
  
                The first thing he noticed was the wide blue eyes that were staring at him curiously, with a thousand questions swimming behind them. He could tell just from that one gaze that they were waiting on the tip of her tongue, but then those curious eyes wandered to Lydgate and dimmed. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, with her chin resting on them while she sat on the thin bed.  
  
            “Alice, this is Doctor Madden. You’re going to be having new treatments with him, starting tomorrow.”  
  
She nodded softly, moving her arms a fraction tighter around her legs. Lydgate looked to Madden, who took a step forward with a small smile for her as she looked back to him.  
             
             “Hello, Alice. My name’s Jefferson Madden. You can call me that if you want to, instead of Doctor.”  
  
            “You can’t be a Doctor.” Alice’s voice was quiet, almost childlike as she looked at him. “You must be a Hatter.”  
  
            “I beg your pardon?” Jefferson’s eyebrows knitted together, leaning down slightly.  
  
            “You’re wearing a hat. Only Hatters wear hats in Wonderland, you know.”  
  
            “Wonderland?”  
  
            “Alice,” Lydgate cleared his throat, giving the girl so much of a stern look that she quieted, now choosing to tilt her head so that only her nose and eyes were visible on her knees. Madden stood back and turned to Lydgate, awaiting an explanation. When the man gestured to the door of Alice’s cell, Madden turned back to the girl who by now had let the dirty blonde curls of her hair come forward to keep her from his gaze.  
  
            “I’ll see you soon, Alice. You can tell me about Wonderland then.”  
  
            As the key turned in the lock to shut her inside. Madden took his full height to tower over Lydgate, demanding an answer.  
  
            “Why did you interrupt her?”  
  
            “Alice is a very _delicate_ girl. Once she starts telling her ridiculous tales, we can’t stop her. She upset the other women in Section A when she started to tell them that the Flowers some of the Orderlies brought in were screaming because they had been cut from their bodies.”  
  
            “That’s the disturbance she caused? Telling a silly story about flowers?” Madden couldn’t understand. Surely the others on this particular ward were up here for more than telling one little tale.  
  
            “Oh, no. That’s just one of Alice’s many tales about Wonderland and its inhabitants. She was brought up here because she was continuously upsetting the women, so much so that she was going to bring harm to herself if she continued to talk about her little fantasy world. The other women were getting incredibly distressed.”  
  
Lydgate gave a light wave at the door off the ward, and the corridor that would surely lead them to the office that Madden had been promised.  
  
“It’s all in Alice’s file. Her father was at wit’s end with her. She was starting to tell her younger sister these stories too, and fill her head with nonsense. Alice is here because her father didn’t know what to do with her, and her step-mother wanted nothing to do with the girl.”  
  
            “Then tell your Orderlies to have the treatment room ready for me as soon as possible. I’ll be reading those files tonight and starting tomorrow.” Madden stepped away from Lydgate, making a move toward the door that would lead him to his office, but stopped halfway out of the Ward.  
  
            “Oh, and make sure there’s means of making tea in my office, and a tea set too. I’ll need them.”   
  


* * *

  
            Later that night, once he had changed into his nightwear and had finally taken off his hat, Jefferson had Alice’s file spread across the tiny desk in his room. The candle was flickering, casting fierce shadows over the papers. A sharp rub of his forehead brought out a groan, trying to make sense of the notes that he had been reading over and over. From what he could make out by Lydgate’s – who had been Alice’s primary Doctor before he arrived –scribbles, Alice had delusions of an imaginary world where a rabbit who wore a waistcoat was always late for important dates, and there were twins who only spoke in rhymes. Wonderland had been developing for a number of years in Alice’s mind, and her father had tried to ignore his daughter’s stories and hoped that she would grow out of it. He had often caught her in her room playing with her toys and dolls, having imaginary tea parties with them and having full conversations as though she wasn’t alone at her small table.  
  
When Alice hadn’t grown out of her stories and playtimes, she had been sent to Bethlem. After upsetting the female Ward in her first week, she had been moved to Section C where her delusions grew and she was often reported to wake in the night, screaming about being beheaded. Lydgate had crossed out several things in his notes and Jefferson thought a few pages were missing, but he gave it no real thought. What he knew was that Alice had created a world to hide herself in, and that tomorrow, she would be his first patient.


	2. Of White Rabbits And Pocket Watches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Madness is a regenerating thing. Like a phoenix, when one strand dies, another burns anew.”
> 
> ∞

            The hour before Alice was due to attend her session with him, Jefferson had been reorganising her file to how best he thought it read. He had made notes in his journal about the young girl, which he could use in their first session. According to Lydgate, she was the most placid of all the patients. She never fought or turned violent on the Orderlies, and she had become resigned to speaking when prompted rather than out of turn as she had done when her father had brought her to Bethlem. The tea set he had asked for was waiting to one side of his desk, and the teapot was waiting next to the large fireplace that he was already burning wood on.   
  
            A knock came to the door, making Jefferson clear his throat and lift the quill off the thick paper.  
  
            “Come in.”  
  
An Orderly presented himself, and Jefferson raised an eyebrow. He nodded his head, only stepping over the boundary of the room.  
  
            “Are you ready for us to get Miss Liddell for you, Doctor?”   
  
            “Yes,” the answer came as he pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, noting that there were exactly four minutes before it came to the hour. “I believe it is time to   
bring Miss Liddell for her treatment.”   
  
            “Yes sir.”   
  
As the door closed again, Jefferson rose from his seat to make sure that everything was to his liking. He had tried to make the room look as welcoming as possible, because that was what he expected his patients would like. He wasn’t a fool, he knew exactly what kind of treatments went on in these kind of places before he accepted the job. That wasn’t the way he dealt with his patients, and it never had been. There would be no need for a hospital bed or needles, but just the couch and a tea set.   
  
            The second knock came as he adjusted the cushions on the couch one last time, then went over to the door himself to greet the girl he had spent a great deal of the night reading about. She was standing between two Orderlies, and had a tatty looking cardigan wrapped around her thin figure. She was smaller than he was – the top of her head coming to his chin, and her long, dirty hair only made her seem more like a child than a seventeen year old girl. Still, Jefferson put on a warm smile, opening the door wide for her to see the room behind him.   
  
            “Good morning, Miss Liddell. Are you ready to come in?”   
  
Alice’s eyes were still wide as she looked at him and her mouth began to open, but then it slammed shut when she heard the clearing of a throat next to her. The look in Alice’s eyes quickly went from curious to worried, and she chewed her bottom lip instead and nodded rather than verbally answering. With Alice present, Jefferson wouldn’t frown at the Orderlies, but he would certainly have a word with them after her session. They had behaved similarly to Lydgate the previous day, like they didn’t want Alice to speak at all.   
  
            “Come in and sit yourself on the couch.” He stepped aside to allow her in, and Alice quietly made her way inside. Jefferson didn’t even acknowledge the Orderlies as she did, but turned on his heel, shut the door, and turned his gaze onto Alice. She had positioned herself at the closest point to the door on the couch, and had sat so far forward that he half expected her to fall off.  
  
            “You should get more comfortable. After all, we have –” pausing, he took out his pocket watch again to check the time. “Fifty-nine minutes together.”   
  
Alice’s lips twitched as she saw the pocket watch, making him lift an eyebrow, but she stayed as silent as she had when she had Orderlies on either side of her. Jefferson waved his hand, trying to encourage her to speak.   
  
            “What do you want to say, Alice?”   
  
            “I shouldn’t,” her voice was barely a whisper, yet she settled back on the couch and pulled her knees up to her chin. “Doctor Lydgate says I’m bad for telling silly stories.”   
    
          “Doctor Lydgate isn’t here. I am. I want to know what you want to say.” Jefferson went around his desk and lifted his chair, bringing it forward so he could sit across from her. “Tell me, Alice. I’m new here, and I don’t know about any of your stories. I’d like to, if you want to share them with me.”   
  
            “You really want to know?”   
  
            “I do,” Jefferson smiled softly at her, “please, Alice. I’d like to listen to you.”   
  
Blue eyes glanced around nervously, darting to the barred window that had light streaming through it, to the closed door of the office, to the blazing fireplace, and finally, back to him. Carefully, she crossed her legs, making sure her skirts were covering them before she finally opened her mouth.  
  
            “Why do you have a pocket watch? It’s not nice to take other people’s things, you know.”   
  
            “Other people’s?”   
  
            “Mr. Rabbit’s. He looks all around for his pocket watch every day. He can’t be late, but he always is. He always misses important things. Did you take Mr. Rabbit’s pocket watch from him to make him late? That’s very naughty, Mr. Jefferson. But Rabbit doesn’t know you’re a Doctor. He still thinks you’re a Hatter. Where’s your hat? Why aren’t you wearing it today?”   
  
            Jefferson could barely keep up with her questions. There was nothing odd about the girl in the way her facial expressions matched her speech, or even with the way she was speaking. The oddness only stemmed from her words. He vaguely remembered reading about a ‘Mr. Rabbit’, but there had been no mention of a pocket watch.   
  
            “You think my pocket watch is Mr. Rabbit’s pocket watch?”   
  
            “It must be. There aren’t many pocket watches here.”   
  
            “What does Mr. Rabbit look like, Alice? Maybe I can return it to him.”  
  
Alice’s eyes flickered and quite suddenly, that curious gaze came pooling back into them. Jefferson couldn’t believe it. Not only had she started to talk to him, but she was doing it without him having to ask her a hundred questions that would more than likely push the girl into a corner and make her want to leave. No, Alice had made herself quite comfortable on the couch, now holding a cushion in her arms.   
  
            “He’s not very tall. His ears are very big, though. He can tell whenever the Tweedles are up to no good in Tulgey Wood. That was a rhyme, wasn’t it? The Tweedles like their rhymes. Mr. Rabbit doesn’t. He gets very impatient with them when they tease him. He has little gold rimmed glasses and a yellow waistcoat which he keeps his pocket watch in. His jacket is red – because he works for the Queen of Hearts, Mr. Rabbit does. He has a little cane to help him hop when he can’t hop so good, but most of the time he doesn’t need it. His feet are very big too, like a rabbit’s should be. Oh! And he’s white. Mr. Rabbit has the whitest fur you’ll ever see. You wouldn’t miss him if you saw him. Sometimes he makes rabbit holes for people to fall into Wonderland. That’s how I got there. Mr. Rabbit made a big rabbit hole that I fell into and tumbled down, and it took me all the way to Wonderland.”   
  
            Jefferson mentally cursed. He had left his journal on the desk, along with his inks and quills. If he had them in front of him, he would have written almost exactly everything Alice had told him. A rabbit in a waistcoat that carried a pocket watch, but was always late? Rabbit holes that people – or Alice exclusively, it seemed – could tumble down and end up in a world that she called Wonderland? A Queen of Hearts? Nothing that she had said had been in any of the notes he had thoroughly read over. Lydgate mustn’t have ever gotten Alice to talk so much about one thing.   
  
            “The Tweedles are twins, aren’t they? Boys?”   
  
Alice’s eyes lit up at his words, and for the first time in his room, she smiled at him.   
  
            “You’ve seen the Tweedles? Oh! They love to play games. Dee and Dum. That’s their names. They told me a story once, about a Walrus and a Carpenter. Have you heard them tell it?”   
  
            “You play with the Tweedles often?” Jefferson leaned forward on his chair. Her imaginary world was so intriguing that he soon forgot about his journal. He could write his notes up later. At this particular moment, he needed to listen to her.   
  
            “Only when I could find them,” a sigh left the blonde. “They’re very good at hiding.”   
  
            “They hide from you a lot?”   
  
            “Sometimes,” Alice’s head lolled from shoulder to shoulder, like she was slowly moving to music only she could hear. “Sometimes they like to play with me. They always run away when the Cards come to get me, though.”   
  
            “Who are the Cards?”  
  
            Very suddenly, Alice’s eyes dimmed and she curled back in on herself, shooting glances toward the door. Jefferson watched her for a few minutes, until understanding locked in place.  
  
            “The Cards are the people who brought you to come and see me this morning, aren’t they?”   
  
Alice’s teeth had sank back into her bottom lip again, but she didn’t acknowledge nor answer his question. Jefferson shifted his chair forward again, blocking her line of sight to the door.   
  
            “Alice, it’s safe here. You can tell me.”   
  
            “I won’t get in trouble?” Her voice had become childlike again, and her wide eyes had found his own blue ones. Jefferson shook his head softly, gesturing over his shoulder to the door.  
  
            “You won’t get in trouble. This room? Anything you tell me, Alice, I won’t tell anyone else. It’s safe in here. I promise. The Cards won’t know, and neither will the other doctors.”   
  
            “They’re the Cards,” Alice whispered to him, keeping her arms tightly locked around her legs. “They work for the Queen of Hearts. They all do. The Doc – the men in white coats, they’re her special Cards. Her Aces.”   
  
            “You don’t think I’m a card?”   
  
            “No,” Alice shook her head. The curtain of dirty blonde curls fell around her face, framing it. “You’re a Hatter. You had a big hat when I saw you yesterday. Hatters wear big hats. There’s only one Hatter in Wonderland.”   
  
            “And I’m that Hatter?”   
  
            “Yes,” Alice looked at him, then to his dark locks where his hat had been resting only yesterday. “The Tweedles think so too, and Mr. Rabbit.”   
  
            “Then I suppose I am, aren’t I?” Jefferson moved back in his seat, making sure she was still aware that he was in between her and the door. He had heard more than enough by now from her, and the kinds of things she was imagining. He checked his pocket watch for good measure, then gave her the same kind of friendly smile that he had when he had greeted her at his office door.  
  
            “And Hatters like tea. Would you like a cup, Alice?”   


* * *

  
            By the end of the day, Jefferson had met all nine of his patients and had tea with each of them, but none of them had quite captured him like Alice had. He hadn’t forgotten to make notes during each of his sessions after her, but he decided that Alice’s notes needed a journal entirely to themselves. That was the only reason he had been to visit Lydgate, and to report that the day had gone well. He took dinner in his office alone, while he wrote down everything that he could remember from that morning. After tea, she had been much more settled with him. He hadn’t started his treatment just yet, as he wanted to get his patients comfortable with talking to him first. Now he knew each and every case and had seen every patient with his own eyes, he could start treating them on how he thought best. Alice seemed like the most difficult to decide on something with. Perhaps he would have to give her more than one treatment, for her delusions and her anxiety.   
  
            “Doctor?”   
  
Jefferson looked up from his writing, lifting his quill off the paper. An Orderly was leaning around the door he had left open, and looking right at him.   
  
            “Yes?”  
  
            “We’re about to dim the lights on the Ward. Perhaps it would be better for you to leave for your room now.”   
  
            “Now? It’s only nine o’clock.”   
  
            “The patients sometimes have trouble sleeping. Miss Liddell, especially. We try to let them have as early a night as possible so that if they wake up during the night, they’ve had at least a few hours rest.”   
  
            “Miss Liddell?”  
  
            “She has nightmares sometimes, sir. They fluctuate. She hasn’t had any this week, but last week she had five. Twice in one night on Monday.”   
  
Sighing, he looked back down at his papers. Maybe Alice would need three treatments, if she found it difficult to sleep too. He waved his hand at the Orderly, and found a yawn passing his lips before he could stop it.   
  
            “I’ll take the staircase on this side. I’ll tidy my room myself.”   
  
            “Of course, sir. Goodnight.”   
  
            Once the fire was doused and his papers cleared away, Jefferson made his way into the hall that was illuminated only by the light of the moon through the barred windows at the end of the corridor. He could see through the glass surrounding the door onto the Ward that they were beginning to put out the lights, and the noises that followed made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and made him hurry to the staircase. As each light went out, more screams sounded out from behind each of the cell doors.   
  
            And Jefferson could pinpoint the moment that Alice had started screaming when the Ward turned black.


	3. Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Madness is a regenerating thing. Like a phoenix, when one strand dies, another burns anew.”
> 
> ∞

            The morning routine was the same the following day, except that morning, Jefferson’s eyelids were drooping as he sat to eat his breakfast with the other Doctors.   
  
            “Trouble sleeping, Madden?” Doctor Abrahams, an older man with a wiry, white beard. Jefferson couldn’t help but wonder how more of his food didn’t catch in the hair whenever he looked at him.   
  
            “I think I’m still adjusting to being here. The bed’s much smaller.” He shrugged, managing another spoonful of the thick, tasteless slop in the bowl that had been passed off as porridge.   
  
            “Homesick already?”   
  
            “I’ve never worked in an Asylum,” the admission caught the attention of a few others at the table, making him clear his throat. “I made home visits to my patients, and occasional psychiatric evaluations at the hospital. I decided which patients were shipped off to Asylums just like this one.”   
  
            “And you decided to come and work here, of all places? In Section C?” Another Doctor – Jonathan Porter, who had a balding spot in the middle of all his ginger hair – piped up. The corner of Jefferson’s lips turned upward, and he finally pushed away the bowl in favour of reaching for some toast.   
  
            “I do hope you’re not thinking that I should be one of the patients here too, after a rash decision.”   
  
A few of the men laughed, shaking their heads at him and Abrahams took it upon himself to elbow Jefferson sharply, after being so amused.  
  
            “Perhaps we should lock you on your very ward!” Doctor Shelton, a man with a belly large enough that he could more than likely balance both his plate and teacup on it, hit his hand off the table with a grin.  
  
            “If that’s what you think then perhaps the patients aren’t as insane as you seem to think.”   
  
A wrong turn. The laughter at the table immediately silenced, followed by the men each turning to look down their table at Doctor Lydgate, who lowered his knife and fork slowly. Jefferson showed no reaction, but simply wiped his fingers clean of the crumbs. 

            “If you think those patients aren’t insane then perhaps we _should_ consider locking you in one of the empty rooms.”   
  
            “A joke, Lydgate. I’m well aware the patients are not in the right frame of mind.”   
  
            “Especially not the new one,” a whisper ran around the table. Jefferson’s eyes narrowed, trying to pinpoint exactly which one of them had said it.   
  
            “If you’re referring to Miss Alice Liddell, then yes. Alice is not in the right frame of mind, but she’s harmless. Ask your Orderlies what they allowed me to do yesterday after meeting her for only a few minutes the previous day. Then decide how you judge your patients and their placement in Section C.”   
  
He excused himself from the table with a loud scrape of the metal chair legs against the stone floor, leaving each of the men looking as dumbfounded as the next – except for Lydgate, who didn’t even look up from his plate as Jefferson left. It was going to be a long five months if the two of them were already irritating the other.  
  


* * *

  
            He had managed to calm down by the time Alice was brought in, making it seem like nothing had happened that morning. She looked as small and timid as she had done the previous day, but he wasn’t deterred by that. After all, she had only known him for an hour, at best. He checked his pocket-watch as he invited her to take her place on the couch, and she took the same spot she had done the day before, curling around herself in the same way. He could see by the dark circles under her eyes that she was tired, but he hadn’t prepared anything for that. Not for their morning session.  
  
            “Are you tired, Alice?”   
  
She shook her head, bowing her head as she looked up at him. Jefferson brought his chair around from his desk and sat behind the door to his office, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, but staying in her line of sight.   
  
            “Alice, you can talk in here, remember? It’s safe in here.”   
  
            “I’m not tired.” Barely a whisper from her, but he would take it.   
   
           “You look very tired. Did you not sleep so well last night?”   
  
            “I did sleep.”   
  
            “No. I’m asking if you had any nightmares. Did you?”  
  
Her eyes grew wider, and immediately he watched the panic pool in them. Her blonde curls fell around her face, hiding her from his view.  
  
            “I was good! I didn’t make a sound! Not even a squeak! Not a sound, not a sound. Not after they told me off for being so naughty. I was naughty, and they made me be good. I was so good. I slept. I went to sleep like they told me to. I was good. I was _good_.”   
  
            “I didn’t mean to upset you, A –”  
  
            “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Alice buried her face into her knees, whimpering into her dirty skirt. Jefferson’s eyes had widened also, but only because of the sudden change in   
character. He hadn’t moved and she had suddenly changed, apologising over and over into her skirt.  
  
            “They said I was a bad girl! I didn’t want to be a bad girl! They said I had to be quiet or they would make me be quiet! I didn’t mean to be so loud!”   
  
He couldn’t watch her for much longer. Thankfully, the kettle began to whistle in the fireplace, and he quickly got up to make the tea he had specially prepared for her. A light blend of anti-psychotics, hidden away in the teabag. Alice would never know that she was even taking medication. Not after she had already trusted his tea in their first session. He had another blend especially for her, but that wouldn’t be used right now. First, the anti-psychotics needed to settle and calm her. The narcotics and sleeping medication could wait until it was almost time for the lights to go out on the ward.   
  
            Very carefully, he picked up her cup and saucer, carrying it over while she continued to mumble about how she had been such a bad girl. He stopped in front of her, kneeling down so that when she looked up, he would be at the exact same height. Perhaps using his real name wouldn’t work that morning. He would have to adopt the name she had already given him.   
  
            “Alice. Hatter says that it’s time to drink your tea.”   
  
He paused, waiting for her to either look at him, or refuse to move. A quiet sigh of relief came when her slender fingers carefully reached out for the saucer, taking it from him. Jefferson smiled as her blue eyes found him, and he nodded in encouragement.   
  
            “I made it just for you.”   
  
            “Just for me?” Her voice sounded almost on the edge of breaking, but that didn’t bother him. She was having a bad day today. He could have expected that from the way she had screamed the previous night.   
  
            “That’s right. It’s Alice tea.”   
  
It was painstakingly slow as she brought the cup to her lips, taking a small sip of it. He could see the way the warmth spread itself through her, which for a split second made him wonder how cold it had been in her cell last night.  
  
            “It’s good.”   
  
  
  
            Jefferson made sure that she had drank the entire cup of tea before he engaged her in conversation. He too had a cup of tea, but a normal cup to make it seem like it wasn’t a form of treatment. It wasn’t lying so much as it was hiding the true nature of how he worked, because for all Alice knew, her talking to him was the way he conducted his therapy. By the time her cup was empty, she was in a subdued state and relaxed against the puffy material of the couch.   
  
            “How do you feel now, Alice?”   
  
            “Quiet.” Her head lolled slowly from one side to the other, keeping her eyes on him. “It’s quiet in here today.”   
  
            “You’re not upset anymore?”  
  
            “No…” Alice paused, biting her lip. “Did the Cards tell you I was a bad girl?”  
  
            “Listen to me very carefully.” He wasn’t having any more of that. He had knew who she had meant from the moment she had said ‘they’, but he didn’t actively involve himself into her stories until she was in a state comfortable to talk.   
  
            “You haven’t been a bad girl. You’ve been a very good girl, telling me. Do you remember what I said to you yesterday? I said that I wanted to know what you have to say. You’ve been a very good girl, talking to me. Why would the Cards tell me that you were a bad girl?”   
  
            “I was very loud last night. I made lots of noise, you see. They don’t like it when I make lots of noise. It wakes up the other people, and then they make lots of noise too. The cards are very strict with noises at night.”   
  
            “Why did you make lots of noise?”  
  
            “I don’t like it when it’s dark.” She had stopped moving, but didn’t curl in on herself again. The tea was strong enough to keep her stable until that night, at least.   
  
            “Why don’t you like it?”   
  
            “The Castle makes noises. Haven’t you heard it? It’s so sad… It doesn’t like to have so many people locked away in the Dungeons. The Castle used to be a wonderful place before the Queen of Hearts came along. There were tea parties every day, and masquerade balls, and everyone had scones for breakfast along one table.”   
  
            “The Queen of Hearts?”   
  
Her name had made itself known in their conversation the day before. The Orderlies and the Doctors worked for the Queen of Hearts. She had already told him that.   
  
            “She makes the Castle terribly upset. It cries when it’s dark, Hatter. It’s so sad to have to be used for what her Majesty wants. It misses its first Queen.”   
  
            “And that makes you sad, the Castle crying?”  
  
            “Yes,” Alice nodded softly. “But the Cards don’t like it when I cry for the Castle. They make me stop crying.”   
  
            “They tell you to stop?”  
  
            “At first, they did. Now… They hurt me, just like they hurt the Castle.”   
  
            “They hurt you?”   
  
He drew the line there. He was well aware that Orderlies may tell her to be quiet with her screaming, but he knew that they didn’t physically abuse their patients. They weren’t allowed to. The Orderlies only became physical with the patients when they were becoming difficult, or they were attempting to hurt themselves or other patients. He had had to restrain many a patient in his time at hospitals on visits, so he was no stranger to the fact that it may be interpreted as hurting the patient on purpose.  
  
            “They tell me that if I make more noise, they’ll come back the next night to make me quiet again. Last night… They were different.”   
  
            “What did they say last night?”  
  
            “They said if I wasn’t good, then I wouldn’t get to see you today. They said they would tell you I was too sick to leave my cell.” She casted that almost worried, but not quite all there look on him, as if she was expecting the order to come from him personally.   
  
            “If they had told me that you were too sick to see me, then I would have come to see you. The Cards don’t tell me what to do, Alice. I tell the Cards what _they_ do. Did you want to see me today?”   
  
            “You don’t make my tummy hurt. Or my head. The Aces do.”   
  
            “I’m not an Ace.”   
  
            “I know,” Alice nodded softly. “That’s why I wanted to be a good girl. The Aces don’t like it when I talk.”   
  
            “But I do.”   
  
He had never had a reaction like that from a patient before. She had known of him for all of a day before she had decided that she wanted to come back to him, and to talk to him. Jefferson had been expecting that it would take a week at least before she became that comfortable around him, but he had apparently been wrong. He put it down to her having already separated him from the rest of the Doctors at Bethlem, for she had decided that he was indeed not an Ace, but a Hatter. He was a friend, not an enemy. Perhaps he was going to make quicker progress with Alice than he thought.   
  
  
            Before they could focus more on the topic of Wonderland, he looked to the empty teacup in his hands, then back to her. He needed to know. He wasn’t going to run tests on her – after all, this was to be a safe place. Not a place where he gave her tea and then forced needles into her skin the next.   
  
            “Did you enjoy your tea?”   
  
She gave a small nod, glancing to her own empty cup.   
  
            “Good. We’ll be having much more of it in our sessions. How do you feel about that?”   
  
            “Will we see each other every day?”   
  
            “Every day, for two hours and fifteen minutes. We’ll split them, Alice. You’ll have two hours in the morning with me, here, to talk, and fifteen minutes at the end of each day, just before lights out. I think it will help you sleep.”   
  
            “Like the Dormouse?”   
  
            “Who’s the Dormouse?”   
  
That was a new name to him. Alice hadn’t mentioned a Dormouse in their first session.   
  
            “Oh, Hatter. Can’t you remember? She always comes to your tea parties, and then she falls asleep in the sugar bowl, or your teapot. Sometimes she even sleeps in the teacups, and you’ve almost poured tea on her. She loves her sleep, the Dormouse. Perhaps even more than tea, but don’t tell her I told you that. She would be very upset if you didn’t invite her for tea again.”   
  
            “The Dormouse is my friend in Wonderland?”   
  
            “Hatter, you’re being silly. The Dormouse is one of your very best friends.” Alice sounded very matter-of-factly as she spoke, looking at him in a way that almost provoked him to raise an eyebrow. Then again, he was in the presence of a patient, so he wouldn’t.   
  
            “You, the Dormouse, and the March Hare. Though, if you and the Hare are in one of your silly moods, you can be quite unpleasant to the poor little Dormouse. You scare her half to death sometimes.”   
  
            “I’ll apologise to her when I see her next.”   
  
            “So you should too, Hatter. She cried very big tears into my very small cup of tea the last time you upset her.”   
  
            All too soon, it seemed like their session was over. Alice had remained in an almost dreamlike state of mind and speech, which Jefferson considered a success. She had even gone with the Orderlies in such a well behaved manner that even they had looked at him with equally confused expressions. Jefferson had simply shrugged, asking them to give him five minutes before they brought his next patient up for their session. Each patient was to receive at least an hour’s worth of therapy, but with Alice, Jefferson made an exception. She needed far more attention than the other patients, therefore, she got the larger cut of his time.   


* * *

  
            “How was the young loon today?” Abrahams asked Jefferson the moment he sat down, making the younger man roll his eyes.   
  
            “If you refer to the patients as ‘loons’, then that’s all they’ll think of themselves.”   
  
            “That’s the reason they’re in here, Madden. They’re psychotic.”   
  
            “Anybody could be psychotic as long as there was a Doctor to say so,” Jefferson picked up his plate and cup again, standing just as others were sitting in their seats.   
  
            “You just stick to how you’re treating your patients. I’ll take care of mine.”   
  
With that, Jefferson was leaving the Dining Hall and heading toward the staircase to eat in his own room, and ignoring the narrow eyed look he received from Lydgate as he passed. He wasn’t about to listen to the other Doctors call their patients every name they could think of that meant ‘mad’. He didn’t believe in belittling his patients like it seemed the other men did.   


* * *

  
            True to his word, Jefferson made his way to Section C twenty minutes before lights out, with a cup of tea in his hands. The Orderlies watched him as he asked to be taken to Alice’s cell, and to shut the door behind him. Only when the door was shut did Alice scramble out from under the bed, wrapping her tatty cardigan around her thin frame.  
  
            “You look surprised to see me.”  
  
            “I didn’t think you were really telling me the truth.”   
  
            “Would I lie to you?”   
  
That seemed to halt her. Alice looked at him carefully, keeping her distance from him. Jefferson held out his free hand, almost to show her that he couldn’t possibly lie to her. After what seemed like a very concentrated thought, Alice gave the slightest shake of her head.   
  
            “You see? I told you. Every night, I’ll be here with a cup of tea just for you to drink. I promise that every cup of tea you have at night will help you sleep.”   
  
            “And I won’t hear the Castle cry anymore?”   
  
            “Not a sound.”   
  
            “…Will I still have dreams?”   
  
            “You will,” Jefferson nodded softly, “but not nightmares. This tea helps with nightmares too. Here, drink it.”  
  
Alice took the cup as carefully as she had done before, slowly sipping the tea until she realised it was cool. Again, Jefferson made sure that she had emptied the cup before she could speak, and he could see that it was already beginning to affect her. She swayed on the spot, and her eyelids started to droop.   
  
            “Into bed with you, Alice. The lights are going out in – ” he pulled his pocket watch out, trying to see the time with the dim burning flame in her room, “two minutes.”   
  
She did as he asked, pulling the thin blanket over herself once she had settled on what looked like one of the most uncomfortable mattresses in existence. Her hand flew up to cover her yawns, murmuring something along the lines of it being unladylike to have a gentleman in her room while she was getting ready to sleep.  
  
            “I’m leaving now. I’ll see you in the morning, yes?”   
  
By the time she answered him, Jefferson was leaving through the open door while the Orderly came in to turn out Alice’s light. Her voice was riddled with sleep, and Jefferson couldn’t have been more thankful for the way she had sounded so relaxed when she muttered the words;  
  
            “Goodnight, Hatter.”   



	4. Very Good Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Madness is a regenerating thing. Like a phoenix, when one strand dies, another burns anew.”
> 
> ∞

            Routine was easy to fall into. Alice was the first patient Jefferson saw every morning, and the last patient he saw each night. As he had expected, the tea given just before the lights were put out for the night had kept Alice in a perfect state of calm. Each morning he asked the Orderlies if Alice had screamed during the night, to which each response had been only positive – Alice was no longer screaming, and she slept for an appropriate amount of time. No longer was the skin under her eyes dark from a lack of sleep. Alice’s eyes were bright, a thousand questions swimming behind the blue irises that always seemed so full of life whenever she spoke of Wonderland.  
  
            On the seventh morning of Jefferson’s stay, a quiet knock echoed on the wood of the door to his room. His pocket watch was pulled from the pocket of his waistcoat, and the time that the face of the clock read caused a deep frown to form. It was barely the time that the patients were usually given breakfast, so the knock on his door intrigued him completely. His ascot tie was left hanging on either side of his shirt collar as he moved to open the door, finding an Orderly waiting on the other side.  
  
            “May I help you?”  
  
            “The Orderly in charge of the ward has requested that you start your session with Miss Liddell later today, Dr. Madden. You see, a Sunday morning is when the patients are bathed, and Miss Liddell is the first.”  
  
            “Oh.” A nod of understanding was given to the Orderly as Jefferson tucked his watch back into his waistcoat pocket. “That’s quite alright. Does Miss Liddell know that she’ll be coming to see me later, rather than first?”  
  
            “She hasn’t been informed.”  
  
            “Could you see to it that she is? I wouldn’t want her to think I’ve forgotten about her. Tell her that I’ll have tea ready the moment she comes through the door, if you wouldn’t mind.”  
  
            “Of course, Doctor.” The man gave a polite nod before turning away from Jefferson, leaving him to shut his door and continue getting ready in the comfort of his own room.  
  
  
            Jefferson’s mind wandered as his hands finished fixing the dark tie around his neck, wondering if Alice would even be looking forward to being bathed. As he had gathered, the only place Alice was comfortable with besides her own cell was his office, where she had been growing more comfortable as each day passed. She no longer curled on the end of the couch that was closest to the door, but took up the other side, closer to the large window instead. He knew that the window to her own room was much too high for her to look out of, so after the session that she had changed where she sat, Jefferson had moved the couch closer to the window to allow her to see the outside world. He often found that when she was talking, her eyes would wander to the barred glass and peer down into the garden that was visible from his office. Yet, the more she spoke about her created world, the further into it he wanted to delve. Alice’s stories had him wanting to know more, to be able to understand more of what she spoke of and get to the root of where Wonderland had started – but that, he knew was going to take much longer than six days’ worth of therapy.  
  
            Alice herself seemed to be the topic of most conversations that the Doctors engaged in over meals. No matter how much they spoke of their own patients and how treatments were going, conversation always turned back to Jefferson and to the youngest patient at Bethlem. He had endured two further meals at the table with them after the first time he had excused himself, and that had been two meals too many. From then, Jefferson had every meal in either his office or his own room, where he didn’t have to listen to older men sneer about Alice and seemingly lack of treatment Jefferson was providing his patients. It was far easier to be alone in whichever room he chose, working over his own notes and making sure his patient’s files were updated daily – and Alice’s three times a day. Once after their session, once after he had given her the tea before lights out, and once after he had relayed information from the Orderlies about how she had slept.  
  
            The journal he was making of Alice’s madness itself was ever growing, now with his own questions tied into the information she had told him. More characters from Wonderland had made themselves known within their sessions, each one with a story that Alice would tell him in great detail. So far, she had told him of the Rabbit, the March Hare, the Tweedles – Dum and Dee respectively, Alice would often remind him – the Dormouse, a Walrus and a Carpenter, and most recently, a Cat. Not just any cat, Alice had told him, but a Cheshire Cat. Alice had informed him that the Cheshire Cat not only enjoyed to smile and laugh, but enjoyed to vanish completely from sight and continue their conversations. Each character had its own page in his journal, but there wasn’t a hint for one of the character she had decided that he was – the Hatter. The role which she had appointed him hadn’t appeared much in conversation, and Jefferson hadn’t pressed on the topic. He had learnt in the few days with the young woman that it was best for Alice to decide what she wanted to speak of, as trying to coerce her into talking about one particular topic was far more difficult than he would have ever expected. Alice’s mind was forever changing, and Jefferson never knew which direction their sessions were going to travel in until Alice had settled herself on something she wanted to share with him.  


* * *

  
            Jefferson was waiting by the window when an Orderly came to his office door, informing him that Alice was ready for her session, if Jefferson was ready to have her.  
  
            “Bring her in, please. Her tea is ready.”  
  
            “Yes, Doctor.”  
  
His own cup was placed down on the polished wood of his desk, freeing his hands so that he could straighten his waistcoat and make sure his ascot was appropriately tied. Footsteps could be heard through the open door. In the time it took Jefferson to cross his office, Alice had been brought to the door with two Orderlies on either side of her. Jefferson’s lips curled into a soft smile directed toward her, stepping aside to invite her in.  
  
            “Good morning, Alice. Are you ready for your tea?”  
  
Alice didn’t answer, but slowly wandered from between the Orderlies and into the room. Jefferson gave them a polite nod and closed the door, turning to watch Alice settle into her favoured spot on the couch. Being bathed had done her good, he could tell. Where her hair had been a dirty blonde, it was now pale, and loosely curling around her face as it dried naturally. Her skin had lost the grey tinge it had to it, now almost as cream as the cushions she sat upon. Even her eyes seemed brighter, the blue now directed toward him to watch him collect the pot of tea that was brewing on the fire.  
  
            “How did you sleep, Alice?”  
  
            “Okay.” Her voice was quiet as she drew her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. “I didn’t have any nightmares again.”  
  
            “And your bath?”  
  
Alice chose that moment to look away. A momentary frown formed as Jefferson watched her pull her tatty cardigan tighter around her small frame, and only then did he notice she was shivering. The tea tray was left unattended on the small table by the window so that he could move closer to her, settling down on the chair he had waiting.  
  
            “Alice? What’s wrong?” His voice lowered to a murmur. Though his eyes were on her, she didn’t look up to meet him.  
  
            “The water was cold.” Alice whispered against the fabric of her nightgown. “So cold, Hatter...”  
  
            “Cold?”  
  
That hardly came as much of a surprise. He himself had had a cold bath just that morning – he assumed that the water just wasn’t warm, but he had then been at least able to warm himself by the fire in his room.  
  
            “You’re welcome to sit by the fire, if you would like, Alice. I can move the couch.”  
  
            “I wouldn’t be able to see the sun.” Alice cast her wide eyes up to him, keeping her knees up high enough that he couldn’t see his mouth. He looked between the window and the fire and without another word, went toward the coat stand by the door of the room and plucked his heavy travelling coat off of it, it having been there since he had first arrived. He brought it back toward her, placing it down on the spare seat of the couch.  
  
            “You’re welcome to put that on, if you would like, Alice. It should at least warm you up enough that you shouldn’t get sick. Your tea will help, too.”  
  
            “But this is your coat.”  
  
            “And I’m offering it to you.” Jefferson reassured her. “You mustn’t be very warm in your clothes.”  
  
            “… I can wear it?”  
  
            “As long as you’re in this room, yes. You don’t have to, but I was always told that it’s far better to be warm than it is to be cold.”  
  
Jefferson went back to tending to the tea, leaving Alice free of his gaze. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he was watching her too carefully, like he knew she thought the Orderlies did. It was easy to busy himself, but also catch from the corner of his eye the sight  of the dark fabric that he had placed beside her be lifted, and thin arms be slipped into the large sleeves. A smile graced his lips, but he kept it to himself as he turned back around to offer her the saucer that held her teacup on-top of it. His coat looked enormous on Alice, covering her small frame all too easily. The sleeves were pushed up enough so that her hands could take the tea from him, bringing the cup up to her lips so that she could sip the hot liquid. Jefferson followed suit, bringing his own drugless tea up so that he could take a sip. She seemed to perk up the moment that the liquid had touched her lips, relaxing her shoulders and allowing them to drop.  
  
            “That’s very good advice, you know.” Alice told him. “Have you been talking to the Caterpillar?”    
  
            “The Caterpillar?”  
  
            “Hatter.” Alice almost chided. “He’s the wisest creature in all of Wonderland. Though, he can get quite cross if you don’t understand what he’s saying.”  
  
            “Of course,” Jefferson took another sip of his tea, with Alice repeating his movements with her own cup. “The Caterpillar must have a name, mustn’t he? With him being so wise.”  
  
            “Oh! But he does have a name. Absolem. He’s absolute, you see.”  
  
            “Absolem,” Jefferson repeated. The smile on Alice’s lips only grew as he did so, making his own small smile form. “Have Absolem and I met?”  
  
            “He’s far too small for your tea parties, Hatter. He’s exactly three inches high. He smokes Hookah, too. Sometimes he can make it into shapes, like animals or letters. He recites a wonderful little poem about a crocodile, too.”  
  
            “Can you remember what it is?”  
  
            “But of course. He’s asked me to recite it, you see. Would you like to hear it?”  
  
            “I should very much like to hear it, Alice. Would you tell me?”  
  
Alice’s eyes lit up with excitement as she lowered her knees, placing both of her feet back onto the floor. She sat herself up properly, no longer crouched over, and kept her teacup firmly in her hands that she had resting on her lap. He could see that her cup was almost empty now, but it was a fleeting glance to the china as Alice began to speak.  
  
            “How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail, and pour the waters of the Nile on every golden scale. How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spreads his claws, and welcomes little fishes in with gently smiling jaws.”  
  
The expectant look in his eyes had faded the moment Alice had finished. She seemed rather pleased with herself for having recited the poem in full, but Jefferson was far from having delighted in it. Alice’s light brows knitted together for a moment, watching his empty expression.  
  
            “… Hatter? Did I do something wrong?”  
  
            “No, no, Alice. Of course not. I’m just… Surprised.” Jefferson corrected his expression immediately, looking at her. Alice seemed to take it as reason, once again returning to a soft, proud look.  
  
            “Do you know the other version of Caterpillar’s poem? About the busy bee, not the little crocodile?”  
  
            “But of course. Absolem says that that version isn’t the correct one. He says that crocodiles describe the Cards and Aces far better than a busy bee does. Don’t you agree?”  
  
There it was, the reasoning behind such a dark recitation. The trickery, the deception that the poem had held – it was about the Doctors and the Orderlies. Jefferson could understand it all too well, from the point of view that he imagined Alice had.  
  
            “For the Aces and Cards? Yes. He doesn’t think that version is correct for me?”  
  
            “You’re a Hatter, Hatter. It can’t be right for you.”  
  
            “I suppose not.”  
  
            “Besides, Hatters don’t recite poems. They tell riddles.”  
  
            “Riddles? Jefferson watched her drink the last dredges of her tea. “They do?”  
  
            “Cheshire said so. He’s quite a fan of your riddles, and your hat. Could…” Alice stopped herself there, placing the teacup on the windowsill. The sleeves of his coat were pulled up over her hands, with her gaze wandering toward the window. Jefferson allowed himself to look at her for perhaps a moment too long, before he was disturbing wherever her mind had wandered to.  
  
            “Alice? What is it that you wanted to ask?”  
  
            “… I wanted to know if you would tell me a riddle…” Alice’s voice had changed from the excited tone she used when speaking about Wonderland, and to a dreamlike one – the tea had begun to work.  
  
            “You’d like to know a riddle?”  
  
            “Mm. If it’s not a bother…”  
  
            “Alice. You’re never a bother. I enjoy our talks, remember?”  
  
The reminder seemed to make Alice’s lips curl into a smile, but she still didn’t turn back to him. If it was a riddle she wanted, it would be a riddle Jefferson told her. The trouble was, he had never been entirely brilliant at riddles, or even remembering them. Looking around the office, he urged himself to at least remember something, so that he would be able to tell Alice it.  
  
            “Why…”  
  
As his gaze landed on the bookshelf, he tilted his head to be able to read the spines of the thick, leather bound books housed in it. As he read the title of one in particular, his mind sparked.  
  
            “Is a raven like…”  
  
He glanced around again, catching the sight of his desk and the open journal on it, waiting to be written in.  
  
            “A writing desk.” Jefferson finished, nodding to himself. “Why is a raven like a writing desk, Alice?”  
  
Complete nonsense, if he was to say so himself. Yet, for the ridiculous riddle, he had no answer. The gleaming gold lettering of the Edgar Allan Poe book had been the first thing that his mind had grasped as an idea, but the writing desk was another thing entirely. He cursed himself silently, knowing that he would at least have to come up with a viable answer for the nonsense he had asked Alice.  
  
            “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” Alice repeated back to him, pulling herself away from looking at the window with the most curious expression on her face. “A raven?”  
  
            “That’s my riddle for you. You don’t have to work it out this instant, however. You have as much or little time as you like to find the answer.”  
  
            “How much time do I have now, Hatter?”  
  
            “You have,” Jefferson reached into the pocket of his purple waistcoat, pulling out the pocket watch that Alice had come to believe he had borrowed from the White Rabbit, “fifty-nine minutes left. Are you quite warm now?”  
  
            “Much. Would you like your coat back…?”  
  
            “No, no. You may keep it on for the rest of your time in here, Alice. Far better to be warm than it is to be cold, remember? And we rather like taking good advice, even when it isn’t Absolem’s.”  
  
Alice broke into a true smile as Jefferson spoke the name of the Caterpillar. Blonde curls moved as she nodded to him, adjusting the collar of his coat so that it was stood up and brushing against the pale skin of her jaw. Jefferson couldn’t help but offer a smile in return, watching her be so taken with his words. He met her eyes, watching them light up in a way that he hadn’t seen before, and for a moment, it almost made him catch his breath. Then, before he could linger too long, he turned away and reached for the teapot.  
  
            “More tea, Alice?”  
  


* * *

  
  
            Later, in the comfort of his own room, he began to write down the new information from Alice’s session. The flame of the candle flickered from the cold draft that came from the open window. Jefferson abandoned the journal for moments as he shut it and drew the curtains, blocking out the dim light of the moon. The hour was late, far later than after Alice had been given her tea, but he couldn’t bring himself to write earlier than that. The chilling rhyme that Alice had recited to him was keeping him from writing altogether, and causing him difficulty in trying to discover when exactly her mind had come up with it. Surely the Orderlies and other Doctors had never tricked Alice into treatment. As far as he was aware, the patients knew exactly what treatment they were having and the times they were having it. He had witnessed it in passing on Section A – women knew when they were going into their therapy, and although some struggled against it, they knew exactly where they were going. Alice couldn’t have been tricked into any form of treatment when it was seen to that patients were told. With that being the case, he then had to wonder what Alice had truly meant. If it wasn’t that she was tricked into treatments, what exactly had caused her to think such things of the other members of staff?  
  
He had poured back over the file that Lydgate had given him of Alice, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Her father had agreed to any treatment that would help Alice find her sanity once again, and only then would he consider collecting his daughter. Alice was to stay until they found a means to permanently cure her of her delusions and fantasies. There was nothing unusual with that, as Jefferson saw it – he had seen other files with permissions written similarly – but it didn’t settle well with him. Alice was still so young, and to be thrown into Bethlem by her father, and turned away from her family, it tore at something within him that he simply couldn’t place. Out of all the patients he had, Alice was by far the one he wanted to help the most – for to him, what was deemed as her insanity was barely a match compared to the furnace that was the rest of the patients at Bethlem.  


* * *

  
  
            Almost two months passed. Spring had turned into Summer, bringing with it warmer weather and far less rain. Alice’s time with Jefferson had remained the same – two hours each morning and fifteen at night. During the morning hours, Jefferson had noticed that Alice’s gaze was rarely on him. Her blue eyes were more often than not looking down into the courtyard that was at the back of the building they were housed in. It didn’t seem fair to him, that some of the other patients were allowed to have outdoor hours, while his – the most docile of all the patients at Bethlem – weren’t allowed. For some, it must have been far too long that they had been indoors. The pale hues of their skin, the way some squinted when the light in Jefferson’s office became too bright, it all added up to a severe lack of sunlight and fresh air. He tried to open the window when he could, letting some of the breeze in so that his patients could at least breathe clean air, but the sessions weren’t long enough for them to get all that they needed.  
That was about to change.  
  
            Jefferson’s coat was folded over one of his arms, with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up comfortably to his elbows. Behind him, an Orderly was carrying the tray that held the pot of fresh, steaming tea, and two teacups. Jefferson looked toward the man behind him before he knocked on the door to the cell, then pushed it open. The metal scraped across the stone floor, and to his surprise, Alice was standing rather than being curled on the thin mattress of her bed. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, but it didn’t deter him. Instead, he held his hand out toward her.  
  
            “I’m going to be having tea outside today, Alice. Would you care to join me?”  


	5. The Golden Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Madness is a regenerating thing. Like a phoenix, when one strand dies, another burns anew.”
> 
> ∞

The grip of Alice’s hand on his own only grew tighter with each step they took down the stone staircase. By the time they had reached the door that opened to the garden and courtyard, Alice’s knuckles were white. Jefferson didn’t try to pull his hand from her hold, nor did he chide her for having such a tight grip. Before Jefferson could reach for the handle, Alice pulled to a halt. A frown formed, looking to the blonde who was barely a step behind him.

“Come along, now. There’s a table with a parasol waiting for you to sit at it, Alice.”

“We’re really going outside?” Alice whispered, quiet enough so that the Orderly couldn’t hear. There was hope in her eyes, but the dull edge of fear tainted what otherwise would have been a bright look. In an act of reassurance, Jefferson gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yes, Alice. You do want to, don’t you?”

If he would have blinked, he would have missed the nod that she gave in response. That simple gesture was all he needed. He offered her a smile of encouragement, then pushed the door open slowly. The gasp alone from Alice had his smile growing wider, and as he led her out into the sunlight, he could feel her grip on his hand begin to loosen.

“This way, Alice, toward the table.”

“For our tea party?”

“For our tea party,” Jefferson repeated back to her. “The tea party is outside, isn’t it? That’s where I have them?”

“Outside the cottage,” Alice agreed.

  
The Orderly followed until Jefferson had seated Alice – half in the shade, as he hadn’t an idea of how long it had been since she had been in real sunlight, rather than getting a glimpse of a sunray through her cell window – and once the tea tray had been set down on the wrought iron table, left the two of them alone in the open air. The first thing Jefferson noticed about the change of scenery was something that surprised him entirely.

  
Alice hadn’t curled in on herself.

  
Usually, before tea, her knees were drawn up to her chest so that she could rest her chin on them, but outside, Alice had placed both of her hands on either arm of the chair, and relaxed herself into the cushion that Jefferson had placed on it earlier when he had set up the table. Her eyes had closed, her head tilted back, and she was taking deep breaths of the fresh air that was blowing a gentle breeze, teasing the blonde curls of her hair.

“Alice?”

“Mm…”

“Alice, your tea. It’s time to drink it.”

“Of course, Hatter… But… Let me listen to the flowers, a moment longer?”

“The flowers?” Jefferson looked over the table, but Alice still hadn’t opened her eyes. There was a soft smile on her lips, and as Jefferson was about to interrupt her once more, he heard her humming a quiet melody. The change in Alice just from being outside was beginning to amaze him with each passing minute. Never before had she been so carefree before he had given her the tea, and he had certainly never heard her humming before. If he hadn’t brought her outside himself, to look at her now, he would think her an entirely different patient. Her humming eventually quietened until it stopped, but the smile lingered.

“Can you hear them?”

“I’m afraid not. Will you tell me what they’re saying?”

“Oh, they’re not talking. They’re singing the most beautiful song.”

“A song? What is it about?”

“Themselves, of course.”

Then, without another word, Alice began to – of all things – giggle. Jefferson could hardly believe the sight he was witnessing. If he hadn’t have promised himself not to make assessments of Alice’s sessions while they were in them, he would have been furiously jotting notes down. Her nose scrunched up as she laughed, her cheeks coloured pink from the burst of emotion.

“What is it, Alice?”

Wide, light blue eyes opened, stunning him into silence. For once, they were focused – and they were focused on him.

“They’re asking if you’re a wildflower.”

It took a moment to process what she had said. Her gaze, filled with a happiness he had never seen before in her, had stopped all thought. Alice was now the one waiting for his reply, when so often, it had been him waiting for her in their sessions.

“… They think I’m a flower?”

“Not just any flower. A wildflower. One that doesn’t come from a garden like this one. A new flower.”

“Did you tell them that I’m not a flower?”

“Certainly.” Alice smiled. “But the Rose doesn’t quite believe it. She says you’ve too many colours to not be a flower.”

That had him smiling in response. It was an excellent point for Alice to make, he supposed. There had never been a day that he had worn a plain black waistcoat or ascot. There were seven different colours that he alternated between, and today happened to be a day he had chosen a purple waistcoat and green ascot.

“I do suppose I’m wearing quite bright colours.”

“They’re much nicer than the clothes the Aces wear.”

“I shouldn’t like to wear the clothes the Aces wear. They always seem rather uncomfortable.”

“They have to look smart, for the Queen.”

“Of course.” Jefferson reached once more for her teacup, offering it toward her. “Tea, Alice?”

“Thank-you, Hatter.”

Small hands closed around the white teacup, bringing it toward herself. Jefferson raised his own cup toward her and took a sip of tea at the same time she had, watching her let out a contented smile.

“You’re… Happy, Alice. Does being outside make you happy?”

“I can’t hear the Castle from here,” Alice told him. Only then did he realise that she hadn’t once looked back toward the Asylum. Her gaze had been on the flowers nearby, the trees, and more often than not – him.

“It’s quiet out here. Except from the flowers, of course.”

“You haven’t heard them in a long time, have you?”

“Not since…”

Alice went silent. She brought the teacup back up to her lips, but didn’t take a sip. Her eyes closed again, squeezing far too tight for it to be due to the sunlight dancing across her pale skin. Jefferson put his teacup down, beginning to stand so that he could move across to her.

“Alice? Alice, what’s –”

  
“Madden!”

Jefferson inhaled deeply as the voice caught him. He didn’t have to turn around to know that Lydgate was standing there, as red in the face as the roses were that were just behind Alice. A small whimper came from Alice, only loud enough for Jefferson to hear, and that was enough to make him straighten up and hold himself high, turning around and standing directly in front of Alice so that Lydgate couldn’t see her. There were two Orderlies behind the man, both taller and thinner than he was.

“Dr. Lydgate. How pleasant to see you outside on a day like this.” Jefferson tried to keep his voice as light as possible. “I expect you want something?”

“A word, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“You’ve had several.”

“In private, Madden.” Lydgate’s nostrils flared. Jefferson made a point of exhaling deeply, and turned back to Alice.

“I won’t be one moment, Alice. Drink your tea. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Alice peeked one eye open, the worry clearly spelt out. Jefferson offered a small smile of reassurance before he turned back around, still making sure that she was hidden from Lydgate’s view. He stepped toward the man, watching him beckon the Orderlies forward.

“You two, watch Miss Liddell.”

“There won’t be need for that. Miss Liddell will be perfectly fine on her own. There’s no need for you to be here. I suggest you go back inside. Miss Liddell is in the middle of her session. I don’t have a need or a care for Orderlies ruining her progress.”

“Really, Madden, you’re going to let her –”

“If Miss Liddell wanted to run away, she would have done so already. We’ve been out here for quite some time, before you interrupted us.” Jefferson looked back over Lydgate’s shoulder, raising his eyebrows. “You’re dismissed.”

The Orderlies looked from one and other and back to Lydgate, who seemed to have a reply burning on the tip of his tongue, but it never came. He gave a begrudging nod instead, stepping in line with Jefferson to speak. It was Jefferson that made sure they were a good enough distance away from Alice so that she couldn’t hear the conversation that was about to happen – or lack of, he imagined. Lydgate’s face had only grown redder in the time that he had been outside, and Jefferson severely doubted that it was due to the heat of the sun.

“I do hope we’re going to have this word before we arrive back at the door, Lydgate. I would like to carry on with Miss Liddell at some point during her session.”

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” Lydgate hissed. “Bringing patients outside?”

“I was under the impression that I’d only brought one.”

“Don’t act the fool with me, Madden –”

“They need fresh air, Lydgate. I don’t know how long some of them have been locked up there with minimal sunlight, but I’m putting a stop to it now. You’ve said it yourself, they’re the most harmless of all the patients.”

“Fresh air? You brought them out here for fresh air?” The bewilderment was present in Lydgate’s tone, only making Jefferson click his tongue in annoyance.

“You are aware that we’re treating human beings here and not animals, aren’t you? You cannot confine humans to such a small area and expect them to improve their mental state when they have the same walls to look at each day.” Jefferson’s voice became sharp, looking down at the shorter man. “Miss Liddell’s session was going exceptionally well, until you interrupted. I do believe that bringing her out here has made an improvement to her mentality.”

“Interrupted? You brought –”

“And the other Wards are allowed free time outdoors. Ward C will not be any different, starting from today. As long as the weather is pleasant, I’ll be conducting my sessions outside, at the table.”

Lydgate’s face was almost scarlet by the time Jefferson had finished speaking. He knew that he was talking out of turn – after all, Lydgate was his superior – but in that moment, it didn’t matter.

“This won’t last when your five months are up. Nobody else will be willing to take these patients outside.”

“Unfortunately, I still have three months left here. I suggest you get yourself settled with the fact that they’re going to be here. As long as I’m working in Ward C, the patients will be treated like any other human being. Now, is there more to say or can I continue with Miss Liddell’s session?”

Lydgate didn’t reply. Instead, the man turned on his heel and started to walk toward the Asylum, making a point of slamming the door on his way back inside. Jefferson shook his head and made his way back to Alice, who was looking at him with wide eyes over the brim of her teacup.

  
“I told you I wouldn’t be so very long. You see?”

“You made him go away.” Alice’s tone was pure disbelief as she looked at him, watching him pull his chair closer to hers so that should Lydgate come back, he wouldn’t be able to see Alice.

“He’s only an Ace.”

“Not him.” Alice shook her head quickly. “He’s not an Ace.”

“No? Then what is he, Alice?”

“The Knave. He’s the Knave of hearts. He… He’s favoured by the Queen. Her favourite piece in the game. He does what the Queen wants, without asking questions. He enjoys making people upset.”

Alice was beginning to get ahead of herself. Her teacup shook in her hands, to which Jefferson gently took the now empty cup from her and placed it back onto the tray. Her eyes had squeezed shut again, blocking him from her view. With her hands shaking so violently, Jefferson did the only thing he could think to do – reach for her hands and carefully hold them in his own.

“Look at me, Alice.”

It took a painstakingly long moment, but her eyes opened once more. She looked at him through thick lashes, an almost sad expression written into her features.

“He can’t make you upset. Not while I’m around.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” Jefferson nodded. He could feel her hands twitch against his, to which he gave a gentle rub of the backs of her hands. “And Hatters are rather good at keeping their promises.”

The quiet promise drew the faintest of smiles from the young woman. Alice nodded to him, earning a nod in response. He held her hands in his for a moment longer, offering her an encouraging smile.

“Now, you were telling me about the flowers?”

 


	6. Down The Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Madness is a regenerating thing. Like a phoenix, when one strand dies, another burns anew.”
> 
> ∞

            The interruption of Alice’s session by Lydgate was the last time Jefferson saw the large man that day. Another reprimand hadn’t come from bringing his patients outside, and the change in each and every one of the nine he had in his care was easy to see. Yet, as he had expected, Alice’s improvement had been the most drastic. The world outside the locked doors that she had been kept behind for so long had seemed to soothe her far more than any concoction of tea that he could have made for the young woman. Though her delusions had remained, and one could even argue that they had grown more with the mentions and tales of the Flowers of Alice’s wondrous world, Jefferson had taken each word of her stories with a smile and a gentle nod of his head, as always.   
  
            Each passing day was conducted in the very same way – a routine for all of his patients, Alice included. He would walk with Alice down to the Courtyard and conduct her session, followed by their return inside the Asylum after her two hours and the collection of his next patient until he had seen each and every one of the nine in his care. Nights were spent refusing sleep in favour of filling his journals and writing up his notes on how each patient’s health seemed to be, and often he would fall asleep at his desk with the black quill he used still resting in his hand. On more than one occasion he had considered giving himself a dose of Alice’s night-time tea, simply to return him back to a pattern of sleeping, but he was too proud to admit that he needed to sleep. He knew the exact reason that he couldn’t sleep as well as he had done in the previous months, and he would not be one to try and force himself to sleep until the time had passed. He continued to attend to his patients as usual, working to the best of his ability.   
  
            That was, until Jefferson was standing outside Dr. Lydgate’s office with a sigh waiting behind the tight line that his mouth had formed, and his fisted hand had already raised and knocked on the thick oak door. There was a muffled ruffling of papers behind the wood and then the beckoning from the older man’s voice came. Jefferson pushed the door open slowly, straightening his ascot so that the knot was where it should be. He nodded as the door was pushed shut behind him by his foot. Lydgate took one look at him and Jefferson instantly regretted ever needing to come into the man’s office.  
  
            “Madden? I must say, this is a surprise.” Lydgate’s voice was laced with sarcasm. The grin on his lips was far wider than Jefferson had ever seen, which only made his stomach churn.   
  
            “Do you not have one of your loons scheduled in for afternoon tea in the Courtyard?”  
  
            “My sessions are over for the day, if you must know.” Jefferson waved his hand dismissively, sitting in the chair opposite Lydgate. Even with the desk between them, Jefferson could still see that he was sat taller than the large man across from him.   
  
            “Then dare I ask what brings you into my office?”  
  
            “I need a day off. Saturday, specifically. I’ll be travelling late tomorrow evening and should arrive back by no later than ten o’clock on Sunday morning, in time to begin conducting my sessions. I’ll be leaving medication for each patient in my office, with labels indicating who it should be given to and the time it should be given. I’ll explain to my patients that I’ll be leaving them for one day only, and that they will still be able to have their tea.”   
  
Jefferson’s gaze was hard, never once looking from Lydgate’s. He had told himself his plan so many times over that to say it out-loud was refreshing, and it left little room for Lydgate to argue back with it. The silence lingered as Lydgate brought his hands close to each other, fingers drumming together.   
  
            “And I suppose you’re expecting me to agree with you? To allow you to take personal time, when you’re requesting it only two days prior and you do not, in fact, belong to this establishment?”  
  
            “I do believe I mentioned it within my application,” Jefferson told him, having the satisfaction of watching the smug look on Lydgate’s round face drop. “I stated, as I have always stated in every hospital I’ve worked for or in, that I’m happy to work whichever days they require – on the basis that June 6th is reserved for me to take a personal day, and it be one day only.”   
  
            “Why June 6th, Madden?”  
  
            “That matter is none of your concern, Lydgate. You needn’t worry about arranging transport for my journey; my coach driver will be arriving at ten o’clock on Friday evening.” Another dismissive wave of his hand came, but Jefferson didn’t stop there.   
  
“I expect your Orderlies to follow my instructions to the letter. I’ll know if they do not, and if that is the matter when I return, then I’m afraid they’ll have wasted three months of therapy for my Ward. I’ll have no choice but to relocate them within your establishment, Lydgate, and perhaps even write an advertisement for new, competent members of staff that can be trusted to perform a simple task.”   
  
The large man’s lips formed a hard line the harder Jefferson’s voice grew, along with his face beginning to colour to a deep red that Jefferson knew meant one of two feelings, or perhaps both – embarrassment and frustration. He knew that he had the upper-hand over Lydgate. The facts of the matter were true – he had already requested the day to be his own, and Lydgate had agreed upon hiring him. More importantly, Lydgate knew it to be true. There was a long, strained silence between the two men after Jefferson had finished speaking, giving him time to glance around the large office that Lydgate had. Eventually the man pursed his lips, disgust clearly evident within his facial expression.   
  
            “Very well. However, should we have any problems with your patients, they’ll be dealt with according to how I would like.”   
  
            “There won’t be any problems. My patients are harmless. Even moreso with their tea. See to it that your Orderlies follow instruction and you shan’t have a problem with my Ward.”   
  
            “If there is, Madden, I’ll see to it that your five month contract ends sooner than you would like. I can’t afford to have others disrupted because your patients are causing a riot in the upstairs floor.”   
  
By the time Lydgate had finished speaking, Jefferson was already standing by the door. One hand had curled against the golden handle of the door, ready to open it and escape from Lydgate’s office.   
  
            “Of course. I’ll be on my way now, Lydgate.”   
  
Jefferson left the room without giving Lydgate so much as a chance to say another word. A heavy sigh passed between his lips after the lock had clicked, with one hand ruffling up perfectly combed dark locks until they were an unruly mess. He allowed himself a moment to regain composure, fixing his hair to the best of his ability and straightening his tie when he stood back up to his full height. Every conversation he had with Lydgate seemed to always result in the same reaction – his skin felt like it was crawling. Never once had he met a man who drew such a reaction, but Jefferson couldn’t determine whether it was due to how he personallin the same reaction – his skin felt like it was crawling. Never once had he met a man who drew such a reaction, but Jefferson couldn’t determine whether it was due to how he personally felt about the man or whether it was due to Alice’s outlook upon him. Either way, Jefferson couldn’t have urged himself from the man’s office any quicker.   
  


* * *

  
  
            The following night, when Jefferson reached Alice’s cell with her scheduled cup of tea, everything for the next day was already arranged within his office, labelled according to the patient it was to be given to and at what particular time. Jefferson had already discussed with the Orderlies on his Ward that they were only to enter the patients’ cells and leave the tea, and return once the cups were empty. They were not to speak unless spoken to, and certainly not allowed to force his patients to drink their tea. Jefferson had already spoken to eight of his nine earlier that day during their sessions, informing them of his absence. Each seemed to accept it without a fight, and remained subdued knowing that they would still be getting their tea. There was one patient he hadn’t told – and that very patient was the one he wanted to inform his absence of the least.  
  
The door to Alice’s cell was opened for him so that he could step inside with the cup and saucer carefully held in his grasp. Jefferson nodded to the Orderlies, who shut the door behind him. Alice stepped away from her bed, pulling her cardigan around her small frame tightly.   
  
            “Good evening, Alice. I’ve come to visit you slightly earlier tonight. Thirteen minutes earlier, I believe.”   
  
            “Are you leaving earlier too?” Her voice was as timid as it always was at that particular hour. A shake of his head was his initial response while he held her tea in one hand, using the other to gesture that he was going to seat himself on the cold floor of her cell, like he did every night so that they could sit and talk.   
  
            “No, Alice. I’m not leaving earlier, but there is a subject I’d like to discuss with you. That’s why I’ve come to see you so early.” Jefferson’s knees ached as they met the hard stone beneath them. He adjusted himself into a more comfortable position, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Alice joined him, curling into a sitting position across from him.   
  
             “Here. Drink your tea.”   
  
            “Thank-you.” Alice’s gentle hands took the cup and saucer from his hold. The saucer was placed down beside her, and the cup brought to her lips so she could take a sip. She hummed quietly as the warm liquid met her lips, offering him an almost dazed smile as her blue eyes opened and looked to him.   
  
            “What is it that you want to talk about, Hatter? Cabbages and Kings? Oysters and Walruses?”  
  
            “Not quite.” Jefferson’s lips curled into a soft smile as Alice’s voice took on the dreamlike edge that he had found himself coming to enjoy. “I’d like to talk about tomorrow with you, Alice. You see… I won’t be here. I’m leaving tonight, and returning on Sunday morning in time for our morning session.”   
  
            “You’re leaving?”   
  
The subtle change in her tone made Jefferson instantly regret ever having to leave. Alice’s gaze left him and fell to her tea, allowing for her head to become slightly bowed.   
  
            “Not forever, Alice. Only a day, at best. Not even long enough to miss me.”   
  
            “It will be. Rabbit said I’d miss you when I wake up…” Alice whispered. “Did I do something bad? Is that why you have to go away? Did the Queen send for you? I was bad, wasn’t I? The Queen’s upset that I’ve been near her roses again…”   
  
            “Alice. Look at me.”   
  
The firm tone in his voice was one he hadn’t used before around her, but in her ramble, it seemed to be the only way Jefferson knew how to bring her back. Alice jumped, almost spilling her tea. Her knees drew up against her chest with her hands resting the cup gently on top of them. She peeked over the rim of the teacup, meekly looking up at him.   
  
            “I’m not leaving because of you, Alice. You see… There’s a matter…” His voice softened. His brows furrowed together in a moment of thought, trying to present a reason that Alice would understand and accept.   
  
            “I’ve ran out of tea, you see. I have enough for you tomorrow, but after that, I’m afraid I have nothing left to give you. I believe you know as well as I that a Hatter simply can’t be without his tea.” The lie rolled easily from his tongue. The reward came in the form of Alice’s eyes widening slightly – she had taken the story as truth.   
  
            “You’re getting more tea?”  
  
            “Yes. We can’t have our tea parties without tea. I would send one of the Cards to collect us some, but I fear they would collect the wrong kind, and that simply wouldn’t do. Do you see why I have to go?”  
  
            “Yes.” Blonde locks moved ever so slightly as Alice nodded, only encouraging Jefferson to continue to speak.   
  
            “The Cards are under my orders to deliver you your morning tea tomorrow, at the time you would come to see me. I need you to be good and drink it while I’m gone, Alice. Do you think you can do that?”   
  
            “Will they still bring me night-time tea?”  
  
            “Yes. One cup for the morning and one cup before lights out, to help you sleep. When you wake, I’ll be back to see you.”   
  
            “… You’ll only be gone for one day?”  
  
            “I promise. And Hatters are rather good at keeping their promises, remember?”  
  
Jefferson’s lips curled into a small smile as Alice drained the last of her tea. The effect was as immediate as always: her shoulders drooped, her eyes began to close, and Jefferson was left to help her off of the floor and into her small bed. The thin blanket she had was pulled up to her shoulders, along with his hands moving up to brush the blonde curls that spilled across her face back behind her ear. The only sound from Alice were quiet, sleepy hums as she settled, with a smile forming on her own lips. Jefferson collected his teacup silently and crossed the room so that he was back to the door, quietly tapping it so that the Orderlies knew to let him out.   
  
            “Only one day, Alice. I’ll see you very soon.”   


* * *

  
            The storm hit on Saturday evening.   
  
Jefferson had all but gotten down on his knees and begged his carriage driver to return him to Bethlem on Saturday evening, no matter the weather. The carriage driver had continuously refused to take him, and rightly so. The storm had taken a turn for its worst at the time Jefferson was due to begin his journey, causing the roads that lead from his home and back into the village to flood. The rain had battered against the windows so violently that Jefferson had expected several of them to crack under the sheer force. Trees nearby had narrowly escaped lightning crashes, though the winds proved no better for them and had split several thinner trees. Aside from Jefferson, his housekeeper and the carriage driver murmuring to each other about the weather and huddling in the same room for warmth for the night, there had been naught but the sounds of the forces outside the brick walls. He stayed awake half of the night, praying that by some miracle he would still be able to return to Bethlem in time for Alice to wake.   
  
            It was three days before Jefferson managed his return. The driver raced him back as soon as the storm had ended and the roads cleared, trying to return him to Bethlem as soon as possible. Jefferson had barely uttered his appreciation of such a hurried journey before he burst back through the main doors of Bethlem, still damp from the patter of rain that was falling outside. A handful of Doctors were in the foyer as Jefferson came in, each looking as bewildered as the next.   
  
            “Lydgate was under the impression that you weren’t returning, Dr. Madden.” Abrahams greeted him. “You do look in quite a state.”   
  
            “The storm hit my town,” Jefferson managed, shrugging off his thick overcoat. His shirt and waistcoat remained dry, much like his trousers to a certain extent. “The roads became blocked. I returned as soon as I could.”   
  
            “And we wouldn’t have you a moment later, Madden.”   
  
Lydgate rounded the doorway to Jefferson’s left, followed immediately by an Orderly. Jefferson slung the coat over his own forearm, letting a few droplets of water land on the marbled floor.   
  
            “I’ll make up for lost time, Lydgate. I just need to see my patients, and then I’ll inform you properly of –”  
  
            “Eight of your patients are accounted for and subdued. The storm didn’t seem to bother them.”   
  
            “Eight?” A chill began to run down Jefferson’s spine. There were already hints of where the conversation was going to end up, and he knew he wouldn’t like it.   
  
            “And the ninth?”  
  
            “Downstairs, in the basement. She was causing far too much trouble of her own and upsetting the others. I warned you, Madden, if any of your patients –”  
  
            “How do I get to the basement?”   
  
            “I do beg your pardon –”     
  
In moments, Jefferson had moved so that he was towering above Lydgate. A sharp glint was in his gaze, and an almost snarl on his lips. The other Doctors behind them murmured amongst themselves, but Jefferson wasn’t interested in what they had to say. He had one concern, and one concern alone.   
  
            “How do I get to Alice, Lydgate?”


	7. Painting The Roses Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Madness is a regenerating thing. Like a phoenix, when one strand dies, another burns anew.”
> 
> ∞

            It had only taken Jefferson’s snarl for Lydgate to gesture for the Orderly behind him and give the instruction to take Jefferson to where Alice was being held. The Orderly hurried along in front of Jefferson, fumbling through the set of keys Lydgate had passed to him. Anger only grew as Jefferson was taken toward the kitchens and caught sight of the door that the Orderly moved to quickly unlock. He had pulled the lantern from the wall so that it could light their path, and Jefferson only had to look over his shoulder to see why. The staircase was in utter darkness, with no light to offer any comfort.   
  
            “Be careful of your step, Dr. Madden.”   
  
Jefferson’s jaw locked as he took the first step after the Orderly, looking at the ground so he could see where he was to step in the dim glow of the flickering lantern. His breathing was harsh and shallow with every step, with hands curling and uncurling into fists at his sides. Every room that they passed once they reached the basement was as empty and dark as the next, from what Jefferson could see from the faint light.   
  
            “How many patients are down here?”  
  
            “Just Miss Liddell, Sir. Dr. Lydgate had Miss Liddell put in the very last room, so that her screams wouldn’t carry up onto the first floor and distress the women.”   
  
            “How did she get down here?” Jefferson glared at the Orderly’s back, no longer trying to keep the sharp snip of his tone out of conversation. “I do doubt Alice came of her own free will.”   
  
            “They had to bring her down, Sir. Miss Liddell was escorted by the Orderlies from your Ward. Dr. Lydgate saw to it that Miss Liddell was unconscious upon her move.”   
  
            “And you left her in the dark?”  
  
            “For the best, Sir. Dr. Lydgate’s orders.”   
  
            “I can certainly imagine.”   
  
The Orderly stopped upon reaching the very last room. Jefferson’s hands curled into fists once more and remained so, stepping in front of the Orderly. He didn’t need to demand that the room be opened as the Orderly fussed for the right key in his collection, while Jefferson took control of the lantern and held it up so that he could see properly. The lock of the door clicked open with a scraping of metal, allowing for Jefferson to open the door slowly.   
  
            “Alice? Alice, it’s Dr. Madden. I’ve come to get you out.”   
  
No answer came. Jefferson stepped further into the room, stretching out his arm so that the lantern could illuminate the small box of a room. There, in the farthest left corner, was a figure curled up against the wall. Alice’s body shook violently with shivers that made him rush toward her, kneeling behind her small frame – but before Jefferson could reach out to her, a cold shiver ran down his own spine at the words he could now hear being muttered under Alice’s breath.   
  
            “Painting the roses red, or the Queen will have our head…”   
  
The childlike tone was hidden into her whisper as the words were repeated over and over. Alice’s shivering form rocked back and forth as if in a trance, and one that Jefferson was desperate to wake her from. He truly doubted that she would listen to him as Dr. Madden, which only left him one option.   
  
            “Alice. It’s Hatter. I’ve come to take you away from here. Would you like that?”  
  
It was a dangerous game to be playing with an Orderly so close. If the Orderly picked up on him indulging in Alice’s fantasies, he knew Lydgate would see to his contract being terminated. He waited with baited breath for an answer, but even as Hatter, he didn’t get one. Alice continued to sing, keeping her arms tight around her legs so that they remained pressed against her chest. Teeth sank into Jefferson’s bottom lip, knowing exactly what he had to do. A look over his shoulder found the Orderly once more, beckoning him forward.   
  
            “Pick up the lantern. Miss Liddell is coming with me to my office. I expect the fire to be lit, enough hot water there so she can be cleaned up, and clean clothing so that she can dress. I also expect that after Miss Liddell as bathed, she’ll be able to eat. Have somebody prepare her supper. I also want you to go to my quarters and bring every sheet from the bed to my office. Miss Liddell will be staying there.”  
  
            “Y-yes, Dr. Madden.”   
  
The difficult part came once the lantern was lifted from the floor. Jefferson took a breath, trying to prepare himself both physically and mentally for the worst possible outcome of what he was about to do. Gentle, careful hands slid around her back and just under her arm, pressing the fabric of her cardigan against her. The other hand coaxed her arms to drop so that he could slip his hand under her legs, making to lift her in a way that a man would carry his newly-wedded wife through their door. An internal wince once he had stood, not quite knowing how Alice would act toward him now that she was in his arms. She could lash out at any given moment, and Jefferson would only have a second to prepare himself for it. To his surprise, Alice didn’t put up a fight. She allowed him to lift her from the ground without a struggle, with her body curling back up onto itself again within his arms.  
  
            “Painting the roses –”   
  
            “Red, Alice. I know. I know…”   
  
Jefferson’s tone remained soft as he moved, listening to her mumble the chilling song. Alice tucked her head under his chin, resting her head there. Jefferson’s arms tightened their hold without a thought. The Orderly hurried to be in front of them, taking a far quicker pace back to the stairs than before. As expected, when they reached the door that opened to the first floor of the Asylum, Lydgate was waiting. Alice trembled in Jefferson’s hold, turning so that she could hide her face into his ascot. Though he didn’t want to come to a halt, Lydgate was blocking the quickest exit from the kitchens that would lead to his office. The Orderly hurried out of the larger doors they had entered through, collecting two more on his path to mutter the orders Jefferson had given.   
  
            “Where do you think you’re taking her?” Lydgate’s lips curled upward, glaring at the shivering blonde instead of Jefferson. “She needs to be in isolation.”   
  
            “Alice is under my care. I’ll decide what she needs.” Jefferson felt another shudder run through Alice’s body as he spoke, which turned his words into snarls. “Get out of the way.”  
  
            “Excuse you, Madden –”  
  
            “Move.”   
  
Jefferson’s expression turned dark. The glare alone became enough to move the man, though only just so that Jefferson could get past him. There wasn’t another look that Jefferson cared to give Lydgate and simply brushed past the man, keeping Alice shielded from his sight.   
  
            “You’ll regret that.”   
  
            “I don’t care.”   
  


The steps were taken in a hurry. Barely minutes had passed since they left Lydgate in the kitchen to up until Jefferson kicked the door open at the flight of his Ward, startling the Orderlies that were walking to and from his office.   
  
            “Dr. Madden! We’ve done –”  
  
            “Good,” Jefferson barged past each one, walking through the Office’s open door. The fire was burning just as he expected. A large bowl had been brought in – large enough so that he could clean Alice up, though not bathe her properly. He would see to that the following morning. Blankets and sheets filled the couch, and Jefferson could see clean clothes waiting on his desk. Two Orderlies stood within the room, to which Jefferson turned to with Alice still in his hold.   
  
            “Thank-you for your help. I can manage Miss Liddell on my own.”   
  
            “The kitchen –”  
  
            “Bring it up when it’s done. Knock on the door, don’t enter. Thank-you.”   
  
The Orderly that had spoken nodded, allowing the other to leave the room first before he followed suit. Only as the door closed and left them alone did Jefferson let out the sigh he had been holding, and lowered both himself and Alice to the carpeted floor in front of the fire. Her murmurs had long since fallen silent, but her shivering hadn’t stopped. He could feel her shaking breath against his neck with each exhale. Hands that didn’t truly want to let her out of their grasp did so, exchanging their hold for the soft flannel in the bowl of hot water. Jefferson wrung it out, keeping his attention on her.   
  
            “I’m going to clean you up, Alice. As best as I can. Is that alright? I’ll have to touch.”   
  
Alice gave no response. Matted blonde locks had fallen in front of her face as some form of shield, and her knees had once more been drawn up against her chest. In this state, he doubted he would get a response from Alice. A strong hand of his own reached forward to uncurl one of hers from around her knees, pulling it gently toward him. He turned her hand palm up, studying each dried stain of blood upon it.   
  
            “It may sting, Alice. I’m truly sorry for that.”  
  
There was never a sound or movement made by Alice as Jefferson cleaned her up, even when he came to washing her face. The only response she gave was to close her eyes as he drew near, at least letting him know that she was still within her own mind. Her skin was pale as the dirt and grime were removed from it, but thankfully becoming warm to the touch. As the flannel brushed against her cheek for the final time, a soft sigh left Jefferson.   
  
            “Alice… There’s fresh clothes on my desk for you. Clean ones. I need you to get changed into them. Do you think you could do that for me? You’ll have your privacy, of course. I’ll step outside of the room.”   
  
The unfocused look in Alice’s eyes centred within an instant. Terror and fear flashed within them, plainly for him to see. Her shoulders began to shake as she stared at him, making a look of utter confusion form.   
  
            “… Don’t go.”   
  
Her words were almost a broken sob, with tears rising in her eyes. Understanding became immediate – the last time he had left her, she had been locked in the basement. His promise had been broken, and he had left her alone. His hand reached for one of her trembling ones, bringing it within his grasp. It was completely against his professional nature, but it wasn’t within him to stop.   
  
            “I’m not going to leave you again, Alice. I’ll only be outside the door. None of the Cards are going to take you away again. I won’t let them.”   
  
His hands gently squeezed her small one between them in hopes that the increase in pressure would form the reassurance that he wanted to convey. There were still trembles running through her, and fear held within her gaze, urging him to continue.   
  
            “I need you to change into the clean clothes, Alice. I’m going to take care of you, but I need you to do this one thing for me. Could you do that? Please?”   
  
            “You won’t leave…?”   
  
The soft hint of hope within her tone had his chest tightening. Tears spilled over that Alice didn’t respond to, but he did. One hand of his came up, gently brushing his thumb against the teardrops that were making their way down her now clean cheeks.   
  
            “No. I’m here to protect you.”    
  
Her eyes closed, stemming the flow of tears. There was a soft nod of her head that came, bringing a sense of relief with it. He let go of her hand, slowly standing so that he wouldn’t startle her into staring once more.   
  
            “Just outside of the door, Alice. I won’t be any further than that.”   
  
The back of his head met the office door with a quiet thud once it was closed. Alice had still been sitting on the floor when he had left, with her eyes closed. His hand raised to rub over his face, trying to rid the tiredness from the hard lines of his face. The hand continued, travelling up to run through his hair, brushing the dark locks through his fingers. Jefferson allowed his eyes to close, taking the moment just to rest. Part of him cursed himself for ever having to leave Bethlem at all. If he hadn’t left, he would have been available to help Alice through whatever torment the storm had brought. She would have never been locked in isolation, left to the dark with only her own thoughts. How they could have manifested over the length of time that she had been alone, Jefferson didn’t want to truly consider. Alice had been making progress – real progress – and because of his absence, he feared that she would once again close in on herself and become the Alice that he had met on his very first day.   
  
            “Dr. Madden…?”  
  
            “Yes?” Jefferson forced himself to stand up properly and open his eyes, to be met with a sight that was welcome. The Orderly that had spoken had a tray in his grasp, with a bowl of steaming soup.   
  
            “For Miss Liddell, as you requested.”   
  
            “Thank-you. I’ll take that.”   
  
            “Will you need anything else?”   
  
            “No –”  
  
Before Jefferson could continue, a quiet knock came from his office door. The corners of Jefferson’s lips twitched upward, though no smile truly formed. For a knock to have come, Alice would have at least had to move. That meant that there was hope she had changed from her dirty clothes. He gave the Orderly one last look of gratitude before he opened the door – and to the sight that he wanted to see.   
  
Alice had seated herself in front of the fire once more, with her ratty cardigan still wrapped around her thin frame, but a dirty nightgown was left in front of his desk, and the fresh one taken. He shut the door behind him, balancing the tray in one hand, he turned the key in the lock. No Orderlies and no Doctors would be able to get in – he had locked them out, just as he had locked Alice inside to be in his immediate sight.   
  
            “There’s supper for you, Alice. You must be hungry.”   
  
Jefferson came to sit in front of her once more, placing the tray on his crossed legs. Alice’s gaze was upon him, studying the bowl with a look of curiosity.   
  
            “Here. You’re welcome to take it.”   
  
            “…You won’t take it away?”   
  
            “No, Alice.” The tray was moved so that it was between them, with Jefferson nudging it closer to her. His chest tightened like it had previously, hiding the look of pity that so desperately wanted to display itself.   
  
            “It’s for you. You can eat it, or you can leave it be. I won’t force you to do anything that you don’t want to do.”   
A final glance was given to the soup before Alice was turning away, watching the flames flicker instead. Jefferson didn’t push for more, simply allowing her to do as she pleased. However, there was something that he did need to do. He rose from the floor, making his way toward the pile of cushions and blankets that had been left. Carefully and quietly, he began to make a bed upon the couch for Alice, making sure that there were enough blankets to keep her warm.   
  
            “When you’re ready, Alice, you have a bed on the couch. You’re going to stay in here with me for the night, if that’s alright with you. I’ll be at my desk, making sure you’re safe.” Jefferson moved around to his side of the desk, pulling out the heavy, plush armchair that he sank into. Bones ached as he settled, allowing for tiredness to creep through his veins.   
  
            “The door is locked. It’s just you and I, for the night.”  
  
Heels pushed against the floor beneath them so that he could position himself to see Alice, but not intently stare at her. His sole focus became on the way the light of the flames danced across the blonde’s pale cheeks, illuminating her skin with a glow that was so rarely seen. Guilt settled into his mind, and it settled well. While there was fair reason as to why he had left her, he now found himself doubting even that. Of all the patients he had ever had, Alice was the one that stood far from the crowd. She needed his care and attention far more than any ever had, and he found himself trying to come up with a scenario that would be suitable once he had truly left Bethlem for good. After Alice’s progress being torn into meagre shreds from only three days apart, he had only one thought that seemed to be one that he could see happening – it would only be days before Lydgate had Alice thrown back into the basement after his remaining months came to their end, and Alice would be lost to her own madness far quicker than Jefferson could even imagine. It was wishful thinking to expect Lydgate to carry on the treatments that Jefferson had started, but the other eight patients he had would be able to cope with the change. Out of each of them, Alice was the most delicate, and the one he handled with the most care, but it also seemed that Alice was the one least likely to get the treatment she needed. She would be locked away from the world, just like she had been not hours before. Jefferson’s head fell back against the leather of the chair as he continued to watch the blonde, sighing inwardly. Eyes closed, his right hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He needed to create a plan – and fast.   
  


* * *

  
  
            The knock at the door jolted Jefferson awake. Daylight was breaking in through the slit between the curtains, making him highly aware of just how long his eyes had been closed for. He was supposed to have been watching Alice and in frantic panic he bolted up from his seat to look for her, only to find her small frame covered by the blankets that he had laid on the couch, and an empty bowl next to the fire. Another harsh knock came to the door before he could linger on the sight, forcing him to rush toward it and unlock it.   
  
            “What is it?” He hissed, startling the Orderly on the other side as the door opened just a fraction.   
  
            “Dr. Lydgate wanted to know if you would be conducting your sessions –”  
  
            “And how does he expect me to do that if I’m still fixing the mess that he made of Miss Liddell?” Jefferson glared through the doorway. “Tell Dr. Lydgate that I won’t be conducting any sessions until I have Miss Liddell well again. I’ll be issuing treatment, which you will come to collect in an hour’s time, but until Miss Liddell is back to herself, I shan’t be performing any sort of therapy. You may tell him that I thank him for ruining my work so spectacularly.”   
  
            “…Yes, sir.”   
  
The door was shut without another word from Jefferson, leaving him glaring at the wood for moments afterward. The temper that wanted to flare was forced down, ignoring it in favour of being alert when the slumbering blonde woke. Jefferson turned to busy himself with making the tea for each of his patients, and a cup of normal tea for Alice. He didn’t have the heart in him to let her unknowingly drink the concoction he had mixed for her. The following day, he would try, but not for now. Alice didn’t deserve that from him.   
  
He kept his eye on her throughout the process, but there was never so much as a hint of movement. Alice remained still, her body turned into the couch. All Jefferson could see was the top of her head and the blonde curls that spread out across the pillow.   
Each time his gaze wandered toward her, Jefferson found a smile curling onto his lips. It soon became one he had to catch before it formed, and ignore whatever emotion the simple smile brought with it. Each thought was turned away until his mind became blank, allowing for his facial expression to become blank. He couldn’t turn his thoughts into more in-depth ones about Alice now – and more importantly, he wouldn’t. Alice was under his care as his patient, and that was all. Whatever thought his subconscious was creating was squashed underneath the reminder – Alice, for everything else she was, was still mad. That was how they had come to meet, and that would be how Jefferson thought of her. His patient.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
            Hours passed before there was so much as a stir from Alice. He hadn’t the heart to wake her before she had wanted to naturally. He had found contentment in letting her sleep as much as she wanted, doubting that she had truly had enough sleep over the few days he had been gone, if any. Yet, he had still had the Orderlies bring breakfast, lunch and dinner up to his office for Alice on the chance that she had woken and wanted to eat. But Alice hadn’t woken until late, just as he was drawing the curtains across the window. It had been the noise that had startled her, making her jump up from her sleeping position. Panic had spread across her expression, with trembles starting to run down her spine. Jefferson had hurried to reassure her and remind her of where exactly she was, and that there was only him with her.   
  
            “… I…”   
  
Those had been the only word Alice had spoken. Her eyebrows knitted together two a frown, tearing her gaze from his. Blankets had been pulled up and around her shoulders so that she could move within them, pulling them toward the fire so that she could seat herself in front of it. She didn’t cast another glance toward him or even utter a sound, even as he offered her the supper that he had an Orderly bring. Alice’s gaze remained on the flames, and once more, Jefferson collapsed into his chair at the desk, bones aching from how stiff he had slept the previous evening. His eyes closed as his head pressed back against the leather of the chair, sighing inwardly to himself.   
  
            “…Thank-you.”   
  
Jefferson’s eyes snapped back open, jolting upright in his chair to stare at the young woman. Alice hadn’t moved or even turned to look at him, staying huddled up into her blankets. A frown formed on his tired features, confusion setting in. Whether he had heard her or only imagined, he couldn’t tell.   
  
            “You’re a good man, Dr. Madden. I haven’t met many people like you.”   
  
Eyes widened, abandoning all pretence of hiding his stare at the blonde. In all of his time in Bethlem, Alice had never once referred to him by his name – much less called him ‘Doctor’. She had given him her own name, and it had been religiously stuck to in every session. He was Hatter, and that was all Alice had ever called him. It was a dangerous game to be playing, but one that he wanted to indulge. This side of Alice, Jefferson had never seen, and it hadn’t risen by the concoction of Alice’s tea. It was Alice, pure and simple, and that intrigued him more than anything else she had ever said.   
  
            “… What makes you say that, Alice? You must have met some, surely. Perhaps your father?”  
  
            “No.” Alice’s features adjusted for a moment, forming a soft frown. “Just you. You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met.”   
  
He moved to the edge of his seat. Never in all his sessions had he heard Alice talk so fluently when it hadn’t been about Wonderland. As a matter of fact, he had never heard Alice talk of anything that didn’t have hints of her imaginary world within it. There was always a trace of Wonderland within her tales, some more heavy than others. This Alice seemed mature, and far older than her age told her she was. There was a sense of calm collectedness surrounding Alice’s words, the childlike voice long gone.    
  
            “Alice…?”  
  
            “Mm?”   
  
            “Do you know where you are?” Jefferson swallowed. “Why you’re here?”  
  
            “Of course. Bethlem Asylum. Father sent me here.”   
  
Alice’s frown smoothed out as she spoke. Jefferson couldn’t help but let his mouth hang open in slight surprise. The tone alone gave off the impression that she was in a state of exactly what Jefferson had been trying to get her to be in – a state of sanity. Alice knew, and was far more aware than even he would have hoped. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, and one that he decided he wouldn’t ask, until curiosity got the better of him.   
  
            “Alice?”  
  
            “Yes?”  
  
            “Why do you have Wonderland…?”   
  
            “Father didn’t let me have friends.” Alice paused, pushing the blankets down to around her waist. “So I had to make my own.”   
  
The answer made him wish he had never asked the question. His stomach and mind took an uneasy turn at the thought, but he pressed on. He needed more information, and he didn’t know when or even if there would be another opportunity like this to ask Alice.   
  
            “Why wouldn’t he let you have friends?”  
  
            “He didn’t want me. He didn’t want me to exist. That’s why he locked me inside my room. Said I reminded him too much of Mother, and that it’s my fault she’s gone.”  
  
            “Alice… Why would he say that? He’s your father.”   
  
            “My mother took me out to ride the horses on my fourth birthday. She sat behind me so that I wouldn’t fall. I dropped my stuffed rabbit and screamed when the horse stepped on him. The horse got scared, and he bucked.” Alice’s thin fingers twitched in the fabric of the blanket. “He knocked mother off, and… She never woke up.”   
  
Jefferson remained quiet after Alice had finished speaking. As soon as she had finished, Alice reached for the supper that had grown cold by the side of her and started to silently eat. Everything Alice had said, not one word of it had been in the file that Lydgate had given him. Alice’s history had never been disclosed, nor had her reason for delusions.  She had come to Jefferson as a classic case of hysteria, like every other woman that was locked in Bethlem. As mad he himself would seem for believing Alice, he did. There had been no signs or quirks of Alice’s madness present, and the way she had spoken had thrown him completely. There hadn’t been a hint of madness within her, which begged the question – why was she in the asylum? It wasn’t the right place for her. As she had just shown him, Alice was quite capable of moments of sanity, and to him, having heard her reason, there seemed only one problem. Alice was simply an adult who hadn’t let go of childish fantasy. She had clung to all she had known in the world, and been branded mad for it. The Asylum wasn’t the right place for Alice to be, and he knew that now. His gaze travelled over the blonde once more before resolve set in.   
  
Alice wouldn’t be spending the rest of her days locked in Bethlem.   
  
She was getting out, and he was going to make sure that she did.


	8. Curiouser And Curiouser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Madness is a regenerating thing. Like a phoenix, when one strand dies, another burns anew.”
> 
> ∞

Alice remained in Jefferson’s office for a following two days before he saw it fit to return her to her room. It was hardly something he wanted to allow happen, but he knew that if he was ever going to have a chance to remove Alice from the Asylum, he would have to play to Lydgate’s rules. 

The repercussions of Alice no longer being housed within his office didn’t escape him. He had grown accustomed to seeing the blonde as the last thing before his eyes closed and the first before his eyes opened. He found himself missing the image of Alice curled up in front of the fire, looking far more peaceful than he had ever seen her. He even found himself missing the way she looked just moments after she had fallen into sleep, where her lips curled upward in the most shy of smiles, as though her dream was always pleasant and welcoming. It had been moments like those that Jefferson found himself unable to pull away from looking at her, finding peace in seeing her so relaxed. Blonde curls were always pushed away from her face by his worn fingers, allowing for him to study her features properly. It became a strange notion within him, to become so calm with Alice’s sleeping form being the focus of his attention. He never stared for too long, barely moments, but it still brought with it a feeling of protectiveness that he hadn’t quite known existed until Alice’s history had become clear.   
  
The only thing that did concern him was the way Alice’s momentary lapse of sanity had passed. While in the moment it seemed like a lifetime, it had barely been minutes that it had lasted. His quiet question the morning after Alice’s confession seemed to pass over her completely, and only met with a gentle shrug of her shoulders, but it had been real. That much, Jefferson knew. Alice was aware of far more than she appeared to be, even when she didn’t seem to know so herself – and that was how an idea began to form in his own mind.   


* * *

  
  
Jefferson’s hand curled around Alice’s loosely, allowing for his thumb to gently brush back and forth over the back of her hand. Alice hung her head to avoid the sight of the Orderlies as they passed, making the short trip from Jefferson’s office back to her room. The door was already open, bringing the smallest of whimpers to Alice’s lips. Jefferson squeezed her hand subtly, making sure the gesture didn’t reach the eyes of the Orderlies. For the two days that Alice had been allowed back into her room, Jefferson had made a point of retrieving her himself for their session and walking her back. His faith within the Orderlies had dwindled into being non-existent, and with how fragile Alice currently was, he wasn’t going to allow anyone else to get close to her. Every day, Jefferson would follow her inside her room and make sure she was seated and content before he left, with the effects of her special tea still morphing her behaviour. And every day, he was met with the same reaction – Alice wouldn’t allow herself to let go of his hand until he knelt down in front of her and held her gaze with his own.   
  
            “I’ll see you in a little while, okay, Alice? I’ll be back before bedtime to give you your tea.” Jefferson brought their joined hands to Alice’s lap, gently untangling his fingers from hers. Blonde curls blocked her features from him, causing both of his large hands to come up and tuck her hair behind her ears. Once he could fully see her features, one hand came to gently cup her face. Her blue eyes wandered to meet his own, and in return for meeting her gaze, she offered him the smallest of smiles.   
  
            “Back in time for tea…”   
  
            “Always, Alice. I’d never miss tea with you.” Jefferson smiled back at her, letting go of her cheek with regret setting in fast. “I’ll be back before you know it. After all, what is it that you said my watch was?”  
  
            “Perfectly on time,” Alice smiled, swaying slightly. “Not like Mr. Rabbit’s. His is two days slow.”   
  
            “Exactly. So I’ll be perfectly on time for tea later.”   
  
One last look was given before Jefferson stood, Alice’s gaze following him as he did so. Her eyebrows knitted together in a silent frown, much like they did every day, but no word came to stop him from leaving. Jefferson smiled at her even as he left, waving his hand in a goodbye just before he closed the door. Guilt riddled him once the lock was pushed shut by the Orderly beside him, mixing with the regret of having to leave her behind. It had been becoming increasingly hard to pull himself away from Alice, but he couldn’t allow any hint of that to be seen by the Orderlies. The last thing that Jefferson needed was for one to report back to Lydgate about any strange bumps in his recent behaviour. He knew full well that he was being monitored just as carefully and closely as his patients were and for that, he knew he needed to keep a step ahead of Lydgate.   
  
            “Do you want us to ready your next patient, Dr. Madden?” The same Orderly that had locked the door turned to Jefferson, who had turned on his heel to walk back to his office.   
  
            “Bring her in. I’ll have her tea ready for when she arrives.” Jefferson stopped himself before he could walk into his room, turning to look at the Orderly. “And do be gentle with her. The poor woman’s hysterical enough as it is without you manhandling her into this room every day.”   
  
            “… She doesn’t ever come quietly, Dr. Madden.”  
  
            “Perhaps you should ask her if she would like to walk herself. I’m sure she would. Then she might be quiet, don’t you think?”  
  
Jefferson shook his head and entered his office, refusing to look at the Orderly any longer. He made to pick up his thick coat from the couch where Alice had been huddled into it, crossing the room to hang it back up before his next patient arrived, with a smile gracing his lips. If he threw the Orderlies off enough about each patient, they would have more to report to Lydgate about – and not just his attention with Alice.  


* * *

  
  
            Tea had been drank and night had come long before Madden had concocted his plan in full. Hours of the night had been spent pouring over his notes about the young blonde in his care, leaving for very little time for him to catch up on sleep before he was back to conducting sessions. Deciding to take Alice out of Bethlem was one idea, but figuring out how to go about it was something else entirely. It had only been when he had thought about Alice’s moment of sanity once more that he had realised just how he should go about it – and it had been Alice that had planted the idea herself. Alice’s father, Charles. It was only as Jefferson thought about it more and more that he realised what he may have to do to get Alice free from Bethlem’s clutches. As far as Jefferson was aware, Alice’s father wanted nothing to do with her unless she was cured. With the likelihood of Alice being cured enough for her father’s liking, it was simply the working out of how that Jefferson needed to focus on the most. If he was ever going to get Alice out of Bethlem, he would need to start with asking for her father’s permission.   
  
Hands began to sift through the papers that covered the dark wood of his desk, looking for the original thin file that Lydgate had given him upon his arrival. There were few papers within the file itself, and Lydgate’s chicken-scratch excuse for handwriting was barely legible across the paper itself, but Jefferson eventually found what he was looking for. On the very first sheet in Alice’s thin file were the list of details about her family, herself, and more importantly – the address of Alice’s home. His lips began to curl into a grin, finally having something to set the pieces into motion, starting with writing to Charles Liddell.  


* * *

  
  
            Just like the day previous, Jefferson collected Alice from her cell for their session, wearing a soft smile on his lips. Alice had taken his hand without so much as a sound, following him obediently until the door of his office closed behind them. From there, Alice slipped her hand from his and wandered to seat herself comfortably on the couch, pulling Jefferson’s heavy coat from the back of the couch onto her lap, like she did every day. Jefferson’s gaze followed her for a moment before he collected the tea tray, placing it on the table between their two seats. He offered her cup to her and she took it willingly, bringing the warm liquid to her lips with a gentle smile directed right at him.   
  
            “Did you sleep well, Alice?”  
  
            “Oh, very well, Hatter.” Alice murmured. “I had a wonderful dream about the Dodo and his friends enjoying a caucus race.”  
  
            “Is that so?” Jefferson smiled softly at her, watching her take a few sips of tea. Once Alice had relaxed herself properly and her head had started to tilt, Jefferson found his courage to begin talking. Today was going to be different than Alice’s usual sessions. He had a point of conversation that he wanted to explore, and he needed Alice in her haven of Wonderland to truly gather his understanding.   
  
            “Alice?”   
  
            “Hm?”   
  
            “There’s something I’d like to talk about, today. Something rather important. You see, we’ve talked about almost all of Wonderland’s residents, from the Tweedles to myself, but there’s one I’d like to talk about most of all today.” Jefferson placed his own cup down, leaning forward in his seat. “I’d like to talk about the Queen today, Alice. The White Queen.”   
  
            “The Queen?” Alice’s eyes lit up, looking over the rim of her teacup at him. “You want to talk about the Queen?”  
  
            “I’d very much like to.”   
  
            “But Hatter,” Alice’s lips curled into a smile, her head tilting with a dreamlike look upon her face. “You should know everything about the Queen. You’re her most trusted subject.”   
  
            “I am?” Jefferson’s eyebrows knitted together to form a small frown, leaning forward in his chair.   
  
            “Don’t you remember?” Alice lowered her teacup back onto its saucer and placed both on her lap, keeping hold of them. “I suppose not. Though… Hatter. The Queen hasn’t been around for a long time. You remember that, don’t you?”   
  
            “Remind me, Alice?”  
  
As Alice’s expression dulled rather quickly, Jefferson wished he hadn’t asked the question. To see Alice visibly crumple so much by just a simple request made him ache in a way he didn’t expect. Alice glanced down at her teacup, fixing her gaze there.   
  
            “The Queen of Hearts banished her. She took the King from the Queen and banished her from Wonderland. The Queen can’t return while the Queen of Hearts rules. And the Queen… Doesn’t fight. She has no army to fight the Red Court. She only has you, Hatter.”   
  
            “I’m the only one?”   
  
            “Only you.” Alice looked back up at him timidly, biting down on her bottom lip. “You always fight for the Queen. You would never do anything but. That’s why she trusts you so much. That’s why the Cards are scared of you. Everything you are, they’re not, and everything they are, you’re not. They know you’re strong, but that you can’t bring back the Queen on your own. That’s why they leave you alone… Why they don’t hurt you.”   
  
            “Because I work for the Queen, and she sent me to look after you.” Jefferson paused, waiting for a reaction. Alice’s bottom lip fell from between her teeth, allowing a small smile to form on her face.   
  
            “Yes, Hatter. I hadn’t believed you were coming at all… You were terribly late, you know. I suppose time runs different where the Queen is, though. The Queen’s in the Gardens where time stands still.”   
  
            “…Yes.”   
  
Though no facial expression other than the gentle one he had had crossed his face, his mind began to race. The Gardens where time stood still. With how often he and Alice spoke, Jefferson had developed an almost sense of what she was talking about. Usually, fragments of her madness could be understood, whereas with anyone else, it would be simply hysteria. To him, on occasion, Alice made sense – and the sense she made then seemed to be one he could understand far better than he had ever expected. The Gardens where time stands still. Jefferson had a very clear idea of what that truly meant, but dared not to ask in fear of upsetting the blonde. He raised his cup to take another, long sip of tea while watching Alice gaze out of the window, completely unware of his gaze being fixed on her.   
  
            “Alice?”   
  
            “Hm?”  
   
           “Would you tell me about the caucus race?”   


* * *

  
            At precisely one o’clock – time was something he was beginning to watch far more closely now – Jefferson announced to the Orderlies on his ward that he would be taking a slightly longer lunch, to run a personal errand. He was confident enough to leave Alice within the care of the Orderlies for just over an hour, and Alice would never know the difference. His tie straightened and hat placed on-top of his head, Jefferson set off on the way into the main door into Bethlem – with the intention of walking straight out of the gates at the bottom of the long winding path up to the asylum. His hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers as he walked, with the letter to Charles Liddell tucked securely into the inside breast pocket of his waistcoat, where it had been all morning. The groundskeeper was the only other person that Jefferson saw outside, coming to a halt to speak to the older man.   
  
            “Good afternoon.”  
  
            “Good afternoon, Doctor.” He tipped his flat cap to Jefferson, giving him a wide smile. “Rare to see any of you venture this far out of the grounds unless you’re in a carriage.”   
  
            “It seemed like a wonderful day for a walk. Wouldn’t you agree?”   
  
            “Seems it. Sun’s going to hold out for a while, I think.”  
  
            “Excellent.” Just before he could take another step, Jefferson paused, tapping this chin. “I wonder, you wouldn’t happen to know where the nearest post office is, would you? I have a rather urgent letter to send.”   
  
            “It’s a fair walk from here.” The groundskeeper scratched his forehead, frowning. “You’d be better taking a carriage.”   
  
            “Ah… A private letter. One I’d like Dr. Lydgate to not find out about sending. You see, it’s a rather personal letter for me.”   
  
            “Still, you’d be better on some form of transport. But, if you’re looking to send it privately… I pass by the post office on the way back to my home. It’s no trouble for me to post it on your behalf.”   
  
            “You would?” Jefferson’s eyes widened in surprise, tilting his head at the older man.   
  
            “And I suppose you’d be wanting the reply returned directly to you?”   
  
            “If you wouldn’t mind. It’s, like I said, urgent. A matter that needs seeing to right away.”   
  
            “I’d be happy to.”   
  
Jefferson immediately retrieved the letter, along with the collection of coins that he knew would be more than enough to send the letter. He passed both to the man, nodding.   
  
            “Thank-you. I expect there will be change once you’ve posted it, so keep it. I’ll pay you again after I get the reply.”   
  
            “Really, sir –”  
  
            “Please. You’re doing me a great favour.” Jefferson gave the man a genuine smile, tucking his ascot back correctly. “I’ll check back every day to see if you have news of a reply. You wouldn’t mind if I brought a rather… Subdued patient with me on my walks, would you? To make it seem less out of the ordinary. She’s very timid. She wouldn’t dream of harming you, sir. In fact, she might quite like to talk to someone new. It is you that tends to the flowers in the Courtyard, isn’t it?”  
  
            “That’s me.” Jefferson watched as his letter was tucked into the pocket of the man’s green apron, along with the money.   
  
            “She rather adores the flowers. I’ll bring her to meet you tomorrow, if that’s okay with you. And thank-you again, for the letter. You’re saving me a deal of trouble.”   
  
            “That’s quite alright.” He gave Jefferson a last smile, before gesturing over his shoulder to where he had been picking weeds from around the gate. “I best be back to work.”  
  
            “As should I.”   


* * *

  
  
            At first, Alice hadn’t uttered a word to the groundskeeper. Jefferson, true to his word, had managed to get her outside the following day with a great deal of gentle coaxing and after tea, but even with the blend of drugs working their way into Alice’s system, she had remained quiet. He had introduced her to the groundskeeper – William, or Bill, as he preferred to be called – but Alice hadn’t so much as made a sound. She kept her hand loosely in Jefferson’s, staring off across the grounds with an unfocused look. Jefferson had taken her away rather quickly after the first meeting, promising to be back the following day with her. There had been no letter received, but on the fifth day, Jefferson’s hopefulness was still holding strong.   
  
            “Alice?” Jefferson rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, watching her gently place his coat back down onto the plush cushion of the sofa. “Are you ready for our walk?”   
  
            “… Are we going to see Bill again?”  
  
            “Like every day.” Jefferson nodded, holding her gaze as she turned to him. “Would you like to talk to Bill today? Remember, he’s in charge of the flowers. You like the flowers, don’t you? They sing.”   
  
            “Could we hear the flowers today, Hatter? Oh, it’s so nice outside… I should very much like to hear them.”   
  
            “Of course, Alice.” Jefferson held his hand out to her, which she took without hesitation. “But first, we have to visit Bill. Perhaps he’ll be working near the flowers today.”   
  
            “He’s not going to hurt them, is he…?” Alice frowned, stepping close enough to be brushing against Jefferson’s arm. “Don’t let him hurt the flowers, Hatter.”   
  
            “He wouldn’t hurt the flowers, Alice. He’d quite like to be your friend, I think. You see, he’s a friend of mine.”   
  
            “… Oh.”   
  
            “Come along now. The flowers are waiting for you.”   


* * *

  
            Much like he had expected, Bill was tending to the roses in the Courtyard. The man had been steadily working around the Asylum, finishing off a little piece at a time. Alice held loosely to his hand, looking anywhere but at the Asylum itself. Jefferson listened to her every word with a soft smile on his lips, taking every fragment of information in at a time.   
  
            “And Hatter! Do you expect we’ll see any Bread-And-Butterflies?”   
  
            “I suppose we just might,” Jefferson cast a brief look at her, before he gestured in front of them. “Why don’t you ask Bill if he’s seen any?”   
  
Alice fell silent as they approached the older man, who had stopped his work to look up at the pair. He offered Alice a smile like he had done every day, only to again not be met with one in return.   
  
            “Good morning, Miss Alice.”   
  
When she still remained silent, Jefferson offered a gentle squeeze to her hand in encouragement. Bill didn’t react in any particular way, but simply rested back against the spade he had stuck into the deep mud.”   
  
            “Alice would like to know if you’ve seen any Bread-And-Butterflies this morning, Bill. Terribly tricky things to see, I would imagine. They –”  
  
            “Kiss the tulips.” Alice whispered. Jefferson abruptly stopped, turning to look at Alice with surprise clearly written in his expression. Bill had adopted a similar one, which made for Alice moving in an attempt to hide herself behind Jefferson’s arm.   
  
            “Perhaps Bill could show you the tulips, Alice. Would you like that? Then you might see some.”  
  
            “I’d be more than happy to. Tulips happen to be my wife’s favourite.”   
  
            “I like the tulips…” Alice peeked out from behind Jefferson, looking timidly over to the man. Jefferson gave another gentle squeeze to her hand, trying to coax her forward. Eventually, she did, but remained close enough to Jefferson that her arm was pressing against his.   
  
            “… Can I see them?”   
  
            “Of course, Miss. If you’d both like to follow me…”   
  
Alice cast a quick glance up to Jefferson while Bill turned around. He nodded, even going so far as to gesture forward with his free hand. Alice seemed to take the soft encouragement and set about following the man, keeping her footsteps two behind his own. Her hand remained in Jefferson’s until Bill came to a stop – and a gasp escaped Alice’s lips.   
  
Hidden behind the row of hedges that surrounded the Courtyard were flowers upon flowers. Every colour that Jefferson could think of, every type of flower that he could imagine, seemed to be there. Alice’s hand dropped out of Jefferson’s hold as she wandered freely forward past the two men, lowering to her knees in a patch of large daisies. Jefferson’s lips twitched into a smile as he watched Alice stroke the white petals and talk quietly to herself, feeling his heart shudder against his chest in a proud swell.   
  
            “Dr. Madden?”  
  
            “Mm?” Jefferson’s lips didn’t part as he answered. Bill’s voice sounded too far away to respond to properly, but the glint of a folded piece of paper in the corner of his eye brought him back from his wandering thoughts of Alice.   
  
            “Your reply. Came in this morning.”   
  
Jefferson turned to the older man, taking the letter from his hands. The wax seal upon the envelope was quickly broken as he opened it, picking out the handwritten reply from within. His eyes scanned the large, joined up swirls of Charles Liddell’s writing, and lit up as he came to the end.   
  
            “The reply you wanted, I expect?” Bill nudged his arm gently.  
  
            “More.”   
  
As Jefferson looked over to Alice – who had now chosen to lie down in the large patch of daisies so that she could better talk to them – he couldn’t help but grin. Not only had Charles Liddell agreed to meet with him to discuss Alice – he had also arranged for him to be picked up from Bethlem at noon two days from then so that they could meet.  


	9. Cabbages And Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Madness is a regenerating thing. Like a phoenix, when one strand dies, another burns anew.”
> 
> ∞

__  
  
            With the appointment to meet Alice’s father happening so suddenly, Jefferson only had mere hours to form some idea of what he needed to do with Alice. He couldn’t very well leave her with the Orderlies or Lydgate after the events that had happened the very last time he had left her alone. He didn’t trust Lydgate not to have Alice thrown back into the basement, regardless of it being during the day that Jefferson would be gone rather than the night. He needed a way to protect Alice while he wasn’t there to protect her himself, and after their session the day, he came up with the only solution he could think of – but one he didn’t truly want to see through.  


* * *

  
            Once more, the two had wandered around the grounds of Bethlem. Alice, who had now grown accustomed to not only seeing Bill on their daily walks, but talking to him as well, appeared far brighter than she had done since he had brought her from the cell in the basement. She never quite strayed away from his hand unless they were by the hidden flowers, but she didn’t shy away from Bill either.  
  
            “Hatter?”  
  
            “Yes, Alice?”  
  
Jefferson glanced down toward her, meeting her curious gaze with his own welcome expression. Bill was on the opposite side of Alice, tending to the rosebushes with a gentle hand.  
  
            “Have you ever made tea for Bill?”  
  
            “… You know, Alice, I haven’t.” Jefferson found himself chuckling. “Perhaps one day, when we bring the tea set outside with us.”  
  
            “Could we?”  
  
Alice’s voice teetered on the edge of hope, to which Jefferson found himself being able to do nothing but nod and smile in response. It was growing increasingly difficult to deny Alice of anything, and the simple request was no different.  
  
            “Tomorrow, Alice. If the weather still permits, we’ll have tea outside.” Long fingers pulled the pocket-watch from the breast of his waistcoat, eyes quickly glancing to the time. “But for now, I’m afraid our walk is over.”  
  
            “Oh…”  
  
Alice’s hand curled tighter in Jefferson’s. Her gaze wandered toward the older man who had turned around to face her, who offered her a sad smile. Bill wiped his hands on his trousers before he stood, offering a hand out to Alice. She took it only briefly, offering a gentle shake of his hand.  
  
            “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Alice.”  
  
            “For tea.” Alice nodded softly. She stepped back close to Jefferson, unintentionally brushing her bare skin of his arm against his own, where he had rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbows.  
  
            “Thank-you for your company, Bill.”  
  
Jefferson smiled at him. Bill waved a hand to him as he seated himself again, picking up the scissors he had been using to carefully trim the roses. Alice curled back into Jefferson’s side as they turned back to Bethlem, growing quiet. Jefferson squeezed her hand in reassurance, stepping inside the heavy, wooden door that led into the hallway, where their quiet staircase back to their floor was hidden away. Alice kept up with his pace perfectly for a while, stepping on each step moments after he had done so himself. The more steps that came, the quieter Alice became. The moment Jefferson felt her lagging behind, he had to turn and wait for her to catch up. The quiet shuffles of their footsteps kept Jefferson focused, calming the guilt that were daring to wash over from the glance he had given Alice only moments before. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, as though sleep threatened to take over with any given moment. There was a lazy but content smile playing on her lips, and a sway had even worked its way into her steps. He halted them just before he could open the door that led them onto the Ward, keeping his voice quiet lest the Orderlies hear them.  
  
            “Alice?”  
  
            “Yes?”  
  
            “How do you feel…?”  
  
            “Hatter…” Alice yawned, having to pause between words. “I feel rather… Sleepy. Like the poor Dormouse. Oh, she sleeps so often…”  
  
            “In the teapot,” Jefferson forced himself to smile, watching Alice sway without moving her feet. “Perhaps, a lie down? It was rather warm outside… I expect the sun was too much for you.”  
  
            “Mm...”  
  
Jefferson’s thumb brushed across the back of her hand once, swallowing. Alice’s eyes slipped closed, making her still for barely moments before his hand was gently squeezing hers in an attempt at regaining attention. Alice’s eyes opened, unfocused for a fraction of a second before she looked up to him, almost embarrassed.  
  
            “Let’s get you to bed, Alice. Some rest will do wonderfully.”  
  
No sooner did it seem that they had entered the Ward was Jefferson settling Alice down, pulling the thin sheet that the Orderlies dared call a blanket over her small frame. Alice was curled up on her bed, looking at him with the dreamlike smile that often made his heart twitch. Alice’s hand was still loosely within his hold, which he carefully brought both up so that they were outside the blanket. His other hand he brought up to tuck a loose, blonde curl behind her ear. Alice’s lips twitched into a smile, but her eyes didn’t open to meet his gaze.  
  
            “I’ll be back to check on you later, in time for your tea.”  
  
            “Goodnight, Hatter…”  
  
            “Goodnight, Alice. Sleep well.”  
  
  
He gave one last, lingering look, skimming over the gentle features of her face and the way her blonde curls spilled across her shoulders. He removed his hand from hers in one fluid motion and rose, making sure to close the door to her cell as quietly as he possibly could. The Orderly on the other side watched him as he straightened out his collar and began to roll down his sleeves, but Jefferson didn’t so much as look at him before he began to speak.  
  
            “Miss Liddell’s feeling rather tired. She’s going to have a nap now, and when I return, if she’s not awake, come to retrieve me immediately upon my arrival. Is that understood?”  
  
            “Yes, Dr. Madden.”  
  
            “I don’t expect my meeting to last long, perhaps an hour or so. I should be back before dinner. However, if I’m not and Miss Liddell is still sleeping when dinner is prepared, do not wake her. I’ll wake her upon my return and dinner can be brought to her then. You’re to leave Miss Liddell to her rest – she needs it.”  
  
            “Of course.”  
  
The Orderly nodded. Jefferson began to walk down toward his office, swinging the door open. The heavy travelling coat that Alice so often draped over herself was pulled on, along with the large hat that had affectionately earned him his nickname with the blonde. A glance was cast toward the used tea set that lay upon the desk, with darkened thoughts beginning to eat away at his mind. Jefferson brushed them off as bed he could, setting out of the room and making toward the staircase. There was a final glance back toward where Alice’s cell was, but one that didn’t linger. Within instants, his coat tails had disappeared down the wide, stone staircase, hurrying him down to the main entrance into the Asylum.  
  


* * *

  
            Jefferson had almost made it to the large doors when a voice halted him in his footsteps completely, drawing a groan from his lips. His mouth formed a hard line as he turned, looking to Dr. Lydgate’s smug face. When Jefferson didn’t verbally answer, Lydgate took it upon himself to take a step closer. His hands were crossed in front of him, resting on his large stomach.  
  
            “I asked you a question, Madden.”  
  
            “I don’t believe I heard you properly, Lydgate. Would you care to repeat it?” Jefferson tried not to grit his teeth as he spoke, tightening the hold on the small travelling bag he carried.  
  
            “I asked where you think you’re going. I haven’t received a request for leave from you. You know full well that you can’t just leave whenever you –”  
  
            “I’ve arranged my sessions around my own timetable today. I started two hours early to fit in my sessions before I was due to leave, and I do believe that your Doctors are allowed to visit town when they please. Am I correct?”  
  
            “ _My_ Doctors, yes, but you’re not –”  
  
            “Which is why I’ve taken it upon myself to arrange a meeting with my next employer.” The lie came easily, with a shrug to accompany it in an effort at making himself more believable.  
  
            “I believe I have under a month left with you, Lydgate. I can’t very well wait for my contract here to be finished before I so much as look for other work, which is exactly why I’ve arranged a meeting.” Jefferson pulled his pocket-watch out once more, shaking his head in faint annoyance. “One that you seem to be making me late to attend. I shan’t be long, so I wouldn’t worry yourself with my patients.”  
  
Lydgate’s face began to darken. An irritated glare worked itself into his look as his cheeks began to colour, giving off the impression that he was far more furious than his tone would allow.  
  
            “If Miss Liddell –”  
  
            “Miss Liddell is sleeping, and will most likely still be sleeping when I return. You needn’t concern yourself with her wellbeing.” Jefferson slipped the watch back into the pocket of his waistcoat, raising his eyebrows in a challenging fashion. “Anything else, Lydgate?”  
  
            “If she wakes –”  
  
            “She won’t. Miss Liddell needs the rest after all the walking of the grounds she’s done today. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do believe I should have a carriage arriving any moment now. Do try not to think about my patients too deeply, Lydgate. I’d hate for you to have to walk all the way up to Ward C just to find out for yourself that they’re perfectly fine.”  
  
  
Jefferson didn’t give Lydgate time to answer. He turned on his heel and walked confidently across the short distance to the doors and left without another word, though the guilt-riddled look upon his face was something he couldn’t easily hide. He knew all too well that Alice would still be sleeping when he arrived back, for one simple reason alone – that morning, he had added an extra ingredient to her usual cup of tea. Jefferson had halved the dosage of medication in the tea he would provide her that evening to slip some into her morning cup, resulting in Alice’s need to sleep. Regret had gripped him when he watched her drink the tea, and more than once had wanted to tell her not to – but it was the only way that he could think of to keep her safe. If she was sedated, Alice wouldn’t be in harm’s way while he was gone. It had been the last thing he wanted to do to her, but it was the only choice he had. Alice would never be none the wiser about it, and neither would anyone else.  
  
  
            As expected, a sleek, black carriage was approaching Bethlem up the gravel road from the gate, being drawn by two large brown horses. It halted just before Jefferson could be directly in front of it, with the driver looking down at him and offering a polite nod.  
  
            “Dr. Madden, I presume?” He secured the reins before he jumped down, making to open the door to the carriage for Jefferson. “Mr. Liddell is waiting for you. It shan’t be a long journey, Doctor.”  
  
            “That’s quite alright. My schedule is cleared especially for this.”  
  
Jefferson smiled as best he could toward the driver, climbing into the carriage. The driver shut the door behind him, leaving barely moments between Jefferson seating himself on the plush seat of the carriage to it setting back down the gravel road once more, the horses snorting at each other as they went. Jefferson found himself itching to look back at Bethlem the further they grew away from it, but he never gave into the impulse. The guilt and regret that had been building ever so slowly began to fade, replaced with one etched out of nervousness. There was no turning back now. He was going to meet Alice’s father, and finally begin making plans to get Alice free of Lydgate.  


* * *

****  
  
            The pictures that Jefferson’s mind had conjured about Alice’s home hadn’t done it justice. True to the carriage driver’s word, the journey hadn’t taken long at all. Alice’s home was far closer to Bethlem than Jefferson would have imagined – and the sight alone of the home Alice had grown up in was one that Jefferson couldn’t take in all at once. Where he had expected a normal-sized family home, a manor house stood in its place. The grounds alone were larger than Bethlem’s, and the house itself could house at least a dozen more patients than the Asylum could. Even as he approached the door, Jefferson was greeted by what he assumed to be the butler to Charles Liddell, a man who looked to be approaching forty, with his neatly trimmed dark locks holding flecks of grey.  
  
            “Dr. Madden? Lord Liddell is expecting you in his study. Allow me to escort you.”  
  
            “Thank-you…”  
  
Even as he followed, Jefferson couldn’t shake the feeling of uncomfortableness. The large, open space of the hallways he was led through were filled with one sound, and one sound alone: silence. There was no sound that Jefferson could detect, nor even the sound of another person besides the butler in front of him. Casting his mind back to Alice, he knew well that she didn’t enjoy quiet. If quiet was what she had been brought up around, like he was beginning to assume, it wasn’t difficult for him to see why she didn’t like it.  
  
            “This way.”  
  
Two large, dark wooden doors were pushed open, revealing a large room with floor to ceiling bookcases upon either side of the room, save for where a fireplace was on the right. A large desk filled up most of the space in front of the window toward the back, where a man was standing tall. The butler turned to him, stepping to the side to allow Jefferson to take a few steps forward.  
  
            “Lord Liddell, sir.”  
  
Jefferson found himself at a loss for words as Alice’s father approached him. He wasn’t how Jefferson had pictured in the slightest, much like the home itself hadn’t been. Where Alice had flowing, blonde curls of hair, Charles Liddell had neatly trimmed dark locks, and a well-kept beard. He was tall, almost as tall as himself, whereas Alice barely came up to Jefferson’s shoulder. Perhaps the most striking thought was that Charles Liddell was not as old as Jefferson pictured him – not as old by far. He had been under the impression that Alice’s father was closer to sixty than he was fifty, but upon sight, Jefferson decided that the man in front of him mustn’t have been far from only turning fifty. As Lord Liddell’s hand came out to shake Jefferson’s, he found that his mouth was moving before any hint of thought could form.  
  
            “A pleasure to meet you, sir. I’ve been looking forward to – really.”  
  
            “I must say, your letter is the first I’ve received from another doctor at Bethlem. It’s usually Lydgate who I exchange letters with. I was under the impression that he was the main carer.” Charles let go of Jefferson’s hand, waving it to the Butler to dismiss him. “Jefferson Madden, I believe?”  
  
            “Yes, sir. I’d much prefer if you referred to me as Jefferson.” He nodded politely. Charles beckoned him toward the desk, where there was a seat waiting on the opposite side to his own. Jefferson sat, allowing himself to get comfortable in the hard leather of the chair while Charles seated himself. He waited patiently until a pair of dark eyes were on his own, giving him the full attention.  
  
            “I’ve come to talk to you about your daughter, sir. I’ve been Alice’s main physician for a little over four months, now. I spend two hours and fifteen minutes a day with Alice, and her progress… It’s rather amazing. If I may be so bold as to ask, what did Lydgate last report back with her?”  
  
            “Oh, I couldn’t possibly remember that.” Charles shook his head. “More talk of Alice’s nonsense, I’d imagine.”  
  
While his mouth opened, words didn’t come. Jefferson’s eyebrows furrowed curiously, studying the look upon the face of the man across from him. In the reply to Jefferson’s original letter, Charles had at least seemed interested in learning about his daughter’s past few months at Bethlem. Now that Jefferson was in front of him, it seemed like a notion lost.  
  
            “… Alice’s _nonsense_ is hardly that, sir.” Jefferson found himself having to control his voice. “What I believe Alice’s stories are, are simply that – stories. Alice has developed a playground, if you will, where her conscious thought is abandoned and she allows her mind to wander, making for her imagination to take over and create, simply, a world of her own.”  
  
            “I’m more than aware of Alice’s silly little world. She would rather spend time there than in the real one. Her head is filled with utter nonsense. That’s why we had her sent to Bethlem. What you’re telling me is something I already know, Jefferson. I do hope you haven’t travelled this far to tell me that my daughter is insane.”  
  
            “Alice is not insane. Far from it, actually.”    
  
Jefferson had the pleasure of watching Lord Liddell’s eyes widen for a moment, creating a tensed silence within the room. The look upon the older man’s face was one that Jefferson knew was daring him to continue, and so with a proud tilt of his chin, he did.  
  
            “Alice is more than capable of not only distinguishing between reality and fantasy, but she’s also capable of choosing which one she prefers to be within. I’ve witnessed Alice speak in a way that only a sane person could do – without reference to her Wonderland. I beg your pardon, sir, but your daughter is not insane. As a matter of fact, Alice knows why she’s in Bethlem – and chooses to not argue against that fact.”  
  
            “And pray tell, why does she think she’s in Bethlem?” There was an undeniable snarl in his voice, but Jefferson never saw the anger etched onto Lord Liddell’s expression.  
  
            “…”  
  
There, Jefferson had to stop himself. Alice had told him in confidence. Breaking Alice’s trust was something Jefferson didn’t want to do, but for this particular instance, he knew he would have to. If he was ever going to get Alice released from Bethlem, he needed to be truthful with the one man who could pull Alice from the Asylum’s clutches.  
  
            “Alice believes that you don’t want her, sir. She believes that what happened to her mother made you not want Alice to exist. She made Wonderland because she had nobody else in the world.”    
  
The silence in the room began to thicken until it became stifling. Jefferson watched as Charles’s face filled with an angry, red tinge, though he didn’t speak. His teeth were gritted together in a way that made Jefferson regret ever opening his mouth, but he knew that it had been for the best.  
  
            “Charles, Alice needs –”  
  
            “How long have you been a doctor to the mentally ill, Madden?”  
  
            “… Eight years.”  
  
            “And how old does that make you?”  
  
            “I hardly see how that's relevant to my skills as a doctor, sir." Jefferson raised a brow, offended by the question entirely.  
  
            “And you think that you can come into my home and tell me that I’m the cause of the delusions that… That Alice has?!” The snap didn’t make Jefferson so much as flinch, but Charles wasn’t finished there.  
  
            “I expect you don’t know how difficult it is to raise a lunatic for a daughter. To have to hide her away from people of class, because she tells ridiculous stories? To have to put a second wife through the insane behaviour of your first child; to have your wife fear for the sanity of your second?”  
  
            “Alice isn’t –”  
  
            “Alice is mad!” Charles shouted, slamming one fist onto the table. “And I will have no daughter of mine a lunatic. She’ll stay in Bethlem until she gives up these delusional stories!”    
  
            “Alice can’t stay in Bethlem!” Jefferson shouted back. Charles glared at him, tightening the knuckles on the fisted hand that lay upon the table. Jefferson hadn’t dared moved, but the glint in his eye was enough to show how frustrated he had become.  
  
            “Bethlem is _killing_ her. Alice can never get better in a place that she fears so much. Her stories are her protection from the outside world, and in Bethlem, Alice _needs_ to have her protection. She can’t cope inside an Asylum. What Alice needs is to be released.”  
  
            “And you expect me to just allow her to return here?!”  
  
            “No.” Jefferson pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. “You’ve made it quite clear that you want nothing to do with your daughter. I had hoped that you were going to be willing enough to allow Alice to return home, but –”  
  
            “How dare –”  
  
            “Alice _will_ be released from Bethlem.” Jefferson interrupted him. “If you’ll listen to the offer I have to make.”  
  


* * *

  
  
            Alice was still sleeping when Jefferson arrived back at Bethlem. He paid no mind to Lydgate, who lingered near the main entrance, and walked past the little gathering of other doctors. The only stop Jefferson did make was to request that dinner be brought to his office for both himself and Alice, before he continued on his way. Jefferson went straight to Alice’s cell without a second thought, unlocking the door as quietly as he could. The blanket was still pulled up around Alice’s shoulders, bringing a fond smile to his lips. Jefferson knelt beside her bed, gently placing a hand upon her shoulders.  
  
            “Alice?”  
  
A quiet sound fell from her lips, followed by her eyes screwing up just a fraction tighter. Jefferson’s hand moved from her shoulder and to her hair, running long fingers carefully through the blonde locks.  
  
            “Alice, sweetheart. It’s time to wake up. You’ve slept through dinner…”  
  
            “Mm…”  
  
Alice’s eyes began to open, blinking three times before they focused on his own blue ones. A dreamlike smile played on Alice’s lips as she looked at him, making his own lips curl into a smile.  
  
            “I thought I’d miss you when I woke up…” Alice murmured. “But you’re here again…”  
  
            “Quite right,” Jefferson chuckled softly. “And soon, I’ll always be here.”  
  
            “How do you mean, Hatter?”  
  
Jefferson cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure that there wasn’t an Orderly nearby. Thankfully, he had left the door open and could see out into the narrow hallway that separated both sides of the cells of patients, and there were no Orderlies present. With the effects of Alice’s sedation still wearing off, he decided it was safe to tell her – without too much of an overreaction happening.  
  
            “… I went to see someone rather important today.” Jefferson murmured. “Your father, Alice. I went to see your father.”  
  
            “M-my… Father?” Alice’s eyes widened, but thankfully, she didn’t have quite the energy to try and sit up at that moment. Jefferson continued to thread his fingers through her hair in an attempt to keep her calm.  
  
            “Yes. You see, I had something to talk to him about.”  
  
            “… Did I do something wrong?” Alice’s bottom lip began to tremble. “Please don’t say you’re going away again, Hatter. I didn’t like it when you went away. They… The Cards…”  
  
            “Shh, Alice…” Jefferson kept his voice quiet, hoping that it would cause her to do the same.  
  
            “I won’t be going away for a long time, Alice. You see, your father and I, we decided that… The Castle isn’t the right place for you. You don’t like it here, and we don’t want you to be upset.”  
  
            “… So I’m going away?”  
  
            “Yes, Alice. You’re going away.” Jefferson’s hand untangled itself from her hair and came to rest against her cheek, cupping it. His thumb stroked back and forth across her smooth skin, trying to fight the smile that so desperately wanted to break out across his lips.  
  
            “You’re going to come home with me, and you’re going to live there instead.”


End file.
